


Black Desires

by HastaLux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Inappropriate Use of Iambic Pentameter, Liberties Taken With The Source Plot, M/M, MacBeth Adaptation, Magic, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, More or Less The Bard Does Sherlock, Murder Husbands, Shakespearean Tragedy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-05-26 01:05:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14989403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HastaLux/pseuds/HastaLux
Summary: Stars, hide your fires...Sebastian Moran is meant to be a king, or so a prophecy tells him. And with the help of his husband, Jim Moriarty, they'll ensure it happens very, very soon.





	1. Act One

**DRAMATIS PERSONAE**

SIGER, King of Scotland

VIOLET, Queen of Scotland

MYCROFT, the elder son of Siger, a prince of Scotland

SHERLOCK, the younger son of Siger, a prince of Scotland

EURUS, the only daughter of Siger, vanished from court many years ago

SEBASTIAN MORAN, Thane of Glamis, a general in the King’s army

JAMES MORIARTY, husband to Sebastian Moran

GREGORY LESTRADE, Thane of Fife, a nobleman of Scotland

JAMES SHOLTO, Thane of Lochaber, a general in the King's army

HAMISH, son of James Sholto

ANTHEA, a noblewoman of Scotland, aide to Prince Mycroft

SALLY DONOVAN, a noblewoman of Scotland, a serjeant in the King’s army

ANDERSON, a nobleman of Scotland, sworn to Glamis

DIMMOCK, a nobleman of Scotland, sworn to Fife

MOLLY HOOPER, attendant to Lord Moran and Moriarty

JOHN WATSON, Earl of Northumberland, a general of the English forces

MIKE STAMFORD, advisor to the English forces

JEFFREY and RAOUL, common, ruthless men  


**Act I, Scene I:** _A dark wood amidst thunder and lightning._

 

_Enter Eurus, in torn and dirtied garments._

 

EURUS: I sense in the turning of the world  
Foul and fair omens clashing in the heavens.  
The coming storm, I, the east bellow  
Which bears the wind of change,  
Have within me the wit to test them.  
This is the time in which my father’s rule  
Comes to an end. The Thane of Cawdor,  
She a spirit of passionate wrath, has set against him,  
And now my father’s army goes  
To crush her where she stands.

And then- then the land shall see blood.

My father’s blood shall follow.

There was a time I was told I should feel  
Mournfully for such a thing- for such a father,  
Being a daughter of his blood and raised,  
For a time, beside his throne.  
But do not all creatures die?  
We must all of us return to dust,  
Or else molder beneath the sky, a carrion feast.

Yet- hark, someone comes.

_Eurus hides amongst the trees. Enter Moran and Moriarty._

MORAN: I shall part with you here, love  
The battlefield and my oath calls.  
You have the keeping of my lands,  
My title, and my love, until I shall return.

MORIARTY: Be swift and return painted  
In the blood of your enemies,  
That you may be more swiftly decked  
In the blood of mine.

MORAN: No enemies shall you have,  
No foes stand in your way,  
So long as my sword arm is true.

MORIARTY: I do believe it.  
Fight well, husband, and return to me.

MORAN: I shall. Farewell, my love.

_Exit Moran._

EURUS: _(aside)_ How easily the wheel tilts with a single push.  
Were I to extend my hand, I might be  
The director of such events that sculpt  
The whole of the throne beneath them, and most  
Wholly test the will and spirit of my brothers.

_(Eurus pulls her cowl up and steps before Moriarty)_

EURUS: Oh! Forgive me, sir, I meant not  
To cause you any fright- 

MORIARTY: You could not, I assure thee.

EURUS: Ah! But are you not the young man  
Who used to serve Prince Sherlock?

MORIARTY: Not serve- never serve- but  
His companion. We were equals in  
All pursuits, and as I reckon it,  
Should still be, were our wits tested.

EURUS: Alike in merit is well, but  
Never truly alike in station. Though I say  
You have been prosperous- a lord is yours!  
Yet Sherlock is a prince, and naught  
Can unmake a prince, save a king.

MORIARTY: The accident of our births  
Is not a thing I can with mortal hands change o’er.

EURUS: Were it so. Peace go with you, sir!

MORIARTY: _(aside)_ I would give you peace in turn, unfortunate  
Lady, if I only thought you worth  
The unsheathing of my dagger.

_Exit Moriarty._

EURUS: Thus is the first die cast.  
This time of blood turns on Lord Moran,  
New-made lord, his own father so late consigned  
To the worms, and he who shares his bed.  
Moriarty is already pricked, the thorn  
Digging well within. I must to Moran.  
The malice in his heart waits only to expand.

_Exit._

 

**Act I, Scene 2** : _A battlefield command near the holdings of Lady Irene Adler, Thane of Cawdor_.

 

_Enter King Siger, Queen Violet and several courtiers, looking over maps and charts._

_Enter Mycroft, dressed in courtly garb, supporting a wounded Anthea._

SIGER: Have we report from the field?

MYCROFT: My loyal aide, Anthea, has of late  
Returned with injuries taken in my own protection-  
She might recount it.

ANTHEA: Most noble sirs, it is a field most  
Broken and most bloody. Lady Adler’s  
Forces fight ever keenly and doggedly,  
Her serjeant Kate downing ten men for each  
Of the others felling but one. But Lord  
Moran set upon Kate, and in solitary  
Combat has dispatched her, her head cut  
From her shoulders and placed upon a pike  
To mark our battlements.

VIOLET: A most noble combatant.

MYCROFT: He has the disposition of Ares about him-  
Much violence and less wisdom.  
I would feign have had words with Kate,  
That she might tell us where her mistress has stolen to.

VIOLET: ‘Tis done and ‘tis done well, son,  
To make an example of our enemies.  
Say on, good Anthea.

ANTHEA: Seeing the carnage on either side,  
Lord Magnussen of Norway, a man pledged  
In faith to be your ally, ordered his forces  
Turned against both, thus seizing the advantage.

MYCROFT: ( _aside)_ A most unsurprising bit of treachery.

ANTHEA: Even now Lord Moran and Lord Sholto  
Set upon him, but I was forced by mine own injuries  
To depart the field ‘ere I marked the rest.

_She sinks in Mycroft’s arms._

MYCROFT: Father, she grows faint, we must see her to a surgeon.

SIGER: Of course- our thanks, good Anthea,  
For thy report, and blessings on you for your most loyal service.

_Exit Anthea, borne away on a stretcher._

_A joyous clamor outside. Enter Sally Donovan, armor-clad and bearing her helm._

SIGER: How now, who comes?

SALLY: A loyal servant, my king.

VIOLET: Speak, then.

SALLY: Lady Adler is fled, no trace of her detected  
In her keep, nor amongst the remains of her army.  
Lord Sholto and Lord Moran, each affirming  
Their own skill in combat, did set upon  
Lord Magnussen’s forces until they reached  
The knave himself. He is captured,  
And to be ransomed back to Norway’s king-

MYCROFT: ( _aside)_ I would their king deny the traitorous  
Fellow his return. We would be better  
Served were his head cut off before the journey.

SALLY: -for any sum that may please your grace.

SIGER: We shall have a hefty sum from his head.  
But no sign of Lady Adler?

SALLY: None, my lord.

SIGER: She does well to flee, for if she stayed she  
Should well bear our wrath. Let it be known  
She is stripped of her titles and her lands.  
Go, now, and with her former title greet Moran.

SALLY: I’ll see it done.

SIGER: What she hath lost, noble Moran hath won.

 

**Act I, Scene 3** : _A dismal wood under ominous clouds and thunder._

 

_Enter Eurus._

EURUS: ( _aside)_ Moran comes, not yet cleansed of the blood  
He hath spilt. Nor shall he be again.  
And with him, another… less in import,  
More an ant in the great scheme than a man,  
But useful to our purpose.

_Enter Moran and James Sholto._

EURUS: Hail, Thane of Glamis!

SHOLTO: What manner of woman is this,  
That so wild and so wretched hurls herself to your path?

MORAN: I know not. Speak, creature, what is your will?

EURUS: Hail, Thane of Cawdor!

MORAN: By my father’s death I know I am Thane of Glamis,  
How Thane of Cawdor? Lady Adler yet lives,  
Escaped from the field, her title as intact as her head.

EURUS: Hail, Moran, that shall be king hereafter!

SHOLTO: Good lady, that claims some ill portents  
Upon our present king, who hath after him  
Two noble sons. Yet should that be,  
Why bestow you such great predictions of  
Royal hope upon my fierce companion,  
And to me speak not? Is there no such hope  
In my future, that you spare me no words?

EURUS: Hail, Sholto! Lesser than Moran, but greater  
Not so happy, yet much happier  
Thou shalt get kings, and yet be none  
So all hail, Moran and Sholto!

MORAN: Stay, witch- to be a king falls not in the  
Prospect of belief, no more than to be Cawdor.  
From whence comes this strange and bold prophecy?  
Why come to us with this most rare greeting?  
Speak, I charge thee! 

_Eurus vanishes._

SHOLTO: Whither has she vanished? 

MORAN: Into the air, or else the ground below.  
Would she had stayed! 

SHOLTO: Verity this cannot be.  
Perhaps we stumble into a malicious fog  
Our minds most altering and changeable,  
Our reason taken prisoner. 

MORAN: Your children shall be kings.

SHOLTO: You shall be a king.

MORAN: And Thane of Cawdor too.  
What ho, who’s here?

_Enter Sally Donovan._

SALLY: The king hath happily received, Moran,  
The news of thy success; and he has spoken  
In such warm terms for your accomplishment  
Most chiefly, slaying the mighty lady Kate  
And stunning the treacherous Magnussen  
From his most ill-conceived and trai’trous goals  
That he bid me herald thee into his sight.  
And, most earnest to offer greater honour,  
He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor:  
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!  
For it is thine. 

SHOLTO: _(aside to Moran)_ Has the witch spake truly?  
Thou art Thane of Cawdor? 

MORAN: The Thane lives, I know she ‘scaped the field  
Unless she be killed in the time since,  
Her titles are but borrowed goods. 

SALLY: The king has parted her from them  
By her treason, and under pain of death  
Should her face be yet seen in his lands  
She shall not have them. The title is yours  
Earned by your hand. Hail, Thane of Cawdor! 

MORAN: ( _aside)_ Glamis and Cawdor. Then the best is yet to come.  
( _to Sally)_ Thank you for your pains, and this most welcome news.  
( _to Sholto)_ She that did promise me Cawdor also  
Swore your son should bear a line of kings.  
Do you think it true? 

SHOLTO: It may yet be so,  
My son is named for the most kingly man I know.  
Yet I like it not. The devil is one  
Inclined to honesty when it suits  
Though the pur’pose in it may be dark  
And in those shadows let us lose our way. 

MORAN: ( _aside)_ Ought I to fear that my first thought  
Overtaking all others, now that Cawdor  
Is proven true, is kill this king to seize the next?  
I have the strength in mine arm to do it,  
A warrior’s bearing, no fear of death  
Nor squeamishness of blood.  
Yet he is my king, and my oath to him is sworn-  
Chance could crown me without my stir.  
My husband shall know which way tis best. 

SALLY: Noble sirs, shall I bear you to the king?

SHOLTO: Very gladly.

MORAN: Let us to him.

SALLY: Then come, away.

_Exeunt._

 

**Act I, Scene 4** : _King Siger’s Court._

 

_Enter Siger, Violet, Mycroft, and Sherlock, with Anderson attending._

SIGER: Has there been word yet, or any sighting  
Of our former Thane of Cawdor? 

MYCROFT: None, but my many eyes and ears  
Have yet to return to court to make their report. 

SHERLOCK: They may see much, but none see enough.

MYCROFT: _(aside to Sherlock_ ) Do quiet your treasons, brother mine  
I know you assisted her escape.

SHERLOCK: ( _aside to Mycroft)_ Her cause was just,  
The levies upon her lands most extreme.  
At the heart of it, she never bored me. 

VIOLET: Sons, have we your most full attentions?

MYCROFT: Most devotedly, dear mother.

SHERLOCK: _(aside)_ If devotion were a cloud, all unformed air.

SIGER: ‘Tis pity- Cawdor had at one time  
Our greatest trust and most hopefully ambition  
That she might take one of you to husband  
And thus bestow upon us the title of grandsire. 

SHERLOCK: _(aside)_ A most unlikely event, even if  
She’d been lawfully bound. 

MYCROFT: I am sure we all most regret  
That shall never come to pass.  
_(aside)_ She would have liked the crown, but for the bed,  
Nothing there would yet result in crowning.

_Enter Moran, Sholto, and Sally._

SIGER: Most worthy cousin! Lord Sebastian,  
Whom I am glad to call Glamis and  
Cawdor well alike. You have our greatest  
Thanks and will yet have some portion  
Of Norway’s ransom on Magnussen.

MORAN: The service and the loyalty I owe,  
In doing it, pays itself. I need no other  
But that I am glad to know  
I have served well. 

SIGER: Noble Sholto, thou are also well reported  
For thine own deeds on the field,  
And graciously we offer you our thanks. 

SHOLTO: Most humbly do I accept.

SIGER: We have until most late delayed  
In the formal naming of our heir,  
But, in times of such cutting treason  
We find it meet to now do so  
And thus name our eldest, Mycroft,  
Prince of Cumberland. Thus, Lord Moran,  
Thane Glamis and Thane Cawdor both,  
We shall travel to your lands at Inverness,  
That we may spread word of our son’s  
Ascension to all between. 

MORAN: You do me honor, my lord,  
And I shall swift depart, by your leave  
That I may ride ahead and give my most  
Perfect husband word of your coming.  
And so I humbly take my leave. 

SIGER: Go, worthy Glamis and worthy Cawdor.

MORAN: _(aside)_  The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step  
On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap,  
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;  
Let not light see my black and deep desires:  
The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be,  
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. 

_Exit Moran._  

SIGER: Come, let us prepare the court  
We follow Moran, who with great care  
Has ridden forth to prepare our welcome. 

_Exeunt._

 

**Act I, Scene 5** : _Moran’s castle at Inverness._

 

_Enter James Moriarty, reading a letter._

MORIARTY: ‘She met me in the wood where I did walk  
With Sholto, and did in my sight make herself air  
When I did wish to question her further.  
Then came a messenger from the king, who hailed me  
‘Thane of Cawdor’, by which title the witch had so late called me.  
Thus had she also greeted me with ‘King that shall be’,  
In the promise of turning time. This I most wished to deliver  
To thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou  
Might, in thy wisdom, guide my thoughts. Lay it  
To thy heart, and farewell.'  
Glamis and Cawdor thou art, and king thou shalt be:  
Yet I do fear thy nature. Though you be my tiger  
You have not the mind for climbing,  
For conniving, that I have borne,  
In escaping my own low birth to earn my place  
Here, at a lord’s side and in his bed,  
My words alone breathed into his ear.  
Your ambition is true, Sebastian, but mine is sharper.  
Hie thee hither, husband, that I might remind thee,  
By word and deed in faithful bond and bondage,  
Nothing may stand ‘twixt myself and what I desire  
Though it be a golden round upon thy head. 

_Enter Molly._  

MORIARTY: What are your tidings?

MOLLY: The king comes here tonight.

MORIARTY: Tonight? Wherefor tonight,  
Is thy lord my husband returned?

MOLLY: He is coming, riding at speed  
One of our outriders did overtake him  
And nearly wore out his horse in bearing  
The message home.

MORIARTY: See to him, for he  
Has carried out his duties well.

_Exit Molly._

The raven himself is hoarse  
That croaks the fatal entrance of Siger  
Under my battlements. My husband may be lord,  
But I am lord of him, and I shall see this done  
In such time and in such seeming way  
As does cast suspicion on neither he  
Nor I, but Siger’s own, his sons, one well  
Regarded as frigid, and the other  
Indifferent to the concerns of common man  
Not having the experience to make  
Their pleasures known to him.  
Thus we ‘scape, and by word and deed of mourning  
Shall we make, to prove our virtue. 

_Enter Moran._

My great Glamis, my worthy Cawdor!  
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!  
Thy letter has proved most fiery heat  
To mine blood, and I would see the future  
Come with speed, to honor mine and thine. 

MORAN: My dearest love, Siger comes here tonight. 

MORIARTY: And when goes hence?

MORAN: Tomorrow, so he purposes.

MORIARTY: No, my love, never shall he that morrow see.  
You must, dear husband, make a show of welcome  
Of joy in the king’s presence- humble his  
Servant be. Thou art the innocent flower,  
Whilst I might the coiled serpent be,  
Ready and willing to strike. I shall  
Have charge of this endeavor, and make  
With my cunning, a most wicked show. 

MORAN: I give myself o’er to your wisdom.

MORIARTY: I’ll have more than thy words.  
Come, to our chamber. Thy skin hast missed my touch,  
I would ensure my love is fresh remembered. 

_Exeunt._  

 

**Act I, Scene 6** : _Moran’s castle at Inverness._

 

_Enter Siger, Mycroft, Sherlock, Sholto, and a number of the court._

MYCROFT: _(to Sherlock)_ I mislike this place. The air is damp,  
And it seems to me there is something  
Dark bearing o’er it. 

SHERLOCK: _(to Mycroft)_ It is not boring. 

MYCROFT: _(to Sherlock)_ You say that only as you wish to spy  
Its second master, James Moriarty.  
I have seen you eye him before, brother  
Had you but moved swifter, you might have had  
Him afore Moran. 

SHERLOCK: _(to Mycroft)_ Peace, brother, he is  
Most interesting, but he hath not my interest. 

_Enter Moriarty._

SIGER: Our honored host, we thank you  
For opening your doors to our great host.  
I greet thee on my wife’s behalf, she that  
Remains at our court, to give it guidance. 

MORIARTY: We are your servants ever,  
And most graciously bid you welcome  
To our hall. 

SIGER: But where is our lord?

MORIARTY: He rode most vigorously, and from his exertions  
He must needs recover. My lord shall join  
Us at supper, until then I offer  
Myself to ensure my king’s pleasure. 

SIGER: Then give me your hand, and conduct me  
To your hall. We love thy lord most keenly,  
And when he has rested we would  
Most enjoy his fair company, by your leave.

_Exit Siger, Moriarty, Sholto, and the courtiers._

SHERLOCK: Didst thou think a bowed meaning in his words?

MYCROFT: Assuredly. Didst thou?

SHERLOCK: I am not so innocent.

MYCROFT: So you say, but yet you do not know.

_Exeunt._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! A few notes:
> 
> 1). Yes, some of the lines are direct rips from MacBeth. Because they're good lines. :)
> 
> 2). I wanted to start posting this while the  Rupert Graves Birthday Project Auction is still up, in case someone read this and maybe wanted to bid on my lot to get request an adaptation of any other Shakespeare work (or anything else stylized like that- I can reach _really_ far back for my Aeneid iambic hexameter, even.) The auction has lots of other cool stuff and authors too- go bid on something!
> 
> 3). Special thanks to Mottlemoth for reading the first few scenes and ensuring me this was not a completely unhinged idea, and for letting me bounce ideas off her. <3 <3 <3


	2. Act II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought I hear a voice cry "Sleep no more! Moran doth murder sleep!"

**Act II, Scene 1** :  _ Moran’s castle at Inverness. Night. _

 

_ Enter James Sholto and Hamish, bearing a torch. _

SHOLTO: How goes the night, think you?

HAMISH: The moon is down, yet I have not heard the clock.

SHOLTO: And she goes down at twelve.

HAMISH: I take it, sir, tis later.

SHOLTO: Aye. I have told you, son, of my time  
In the English court? 

HAMISH: You have, sir.

SHOLTO: And you remember well thy namesake?

HAMISH: John Hamish Watson, a general,  
And Earl of Northumberland, a warrior  
Most renowned to be both loyal and true.

SHOLTO: Well remembered. And shalt thou prove  
Worthy of his name?

HAMISH: Aye, my lord.

SHOLTO: Keep to it.

_ Enter Moran and Molly, bearing his torch. _

SHOLTO: What ho, who’s there?

MORAN: A friend.

SHOLTO: What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed:  
He hath been in unusual pleasure, and  
Sent forth great largess to your offices.

MORAN: I could not yet sleep. I have a restless  
Mind, that walking apace does soothe. 

SHOLTO: ‘Tis well.  _ (aside to Moran)  _ I dreamed last night of the witch.  
To you she has shown at least one truth.

MORAN: Molly, mind the boy- our thanks.  
_ (aside to Sholto)  _ When you might find an hour to spare  
I would speak with you about that encounter. 

SHOLTO:  At your leisure.

MORAN: If you shall cleave to my thoughts, when 'tis,  
It shall make honour for you.

SHOLTO: So I lose none  
In seeking to augment it, but still keep  
My allegiance clear and spirit unblemished,  
I shall be counsell'd.

MORAN: Good repose the while!

SHOLTO: Thanks, sir: the like to you!

_ Exeunt Sholto and Hamish. _

MORAN: Molly, go greet thy second master,  
Tell him I will be by anon. Get thee to bed.

_ Exit Molly. _

MORAN:  He is a good man, Lord Sholto, and  
I do mislike his nature. For he hath seen,  
Hath heard, the same sights and words  
As myself- he is not the sort that would  
With dark spirit say ‘I have heard my son  
Is to be king- let me cut down those that  
Stand ‘twixt him and glory.’ No, he would stay,  
And wait, and tarry, in the hope that it happens  
By the will of heaven. Yet I turn  
Instantly to the blood and violence  
That have been my instruments ever.  
Should I feel ill at this? I do not.  
My husband takes me as I am,  
And betters me, for the good of both.  
For him, I should kill any number of kings,  
To force the path this fortune brings.

_ Exit. _

 

**Act II, Scene 2.** _ A bedchamber in Moran’s castle. _

 

_ Siger, asleep in bed. Enter Moran and Moriarty. _

MORAN: His guards all asleep?

MORIARTY: In death or deeply,  
I have, with practised art, drugged their wine  
And with breath narrow or ceased,  
They shall not interfere withall.

MORAN: Most wisely done.  
I shall the blades take, and you the pillow?

MORIARTY: His screams shall summon none  
By my hand, naught left to him but  
Muffled curses. Ready thyself.

_ Moriarty smothers Siger with a pillow as Moran stabs, and stabs, and stabs. _

_ They look at each other, splattered with blood, and kiss. _

MORAN: Didst thou hear a noise?

MORIARTY: Only the wheezing sigh of death  
Late emitted from this former king’s  
Most bloody bosom.

MORAN: Who has the adjoining room?

MORIARTY: Sherlock.  
I most look forward to seeing his surprise  
And strained protest that this is not he,  
Not his hand that held this bloodied blade.

MORAN: When I am king, and he called to execution,  
Most eagerly I’ll let you wield the sword.

MORIARTY: You’ll let me nothing,  
Though you may be lord or be king  
You’ll remember who has the rule of you.

MORAN: I fear a sterner remembering  
May be in order.

MORIARTY: Peace, husband.  
We must yet these blades surrender  
To the hands we must say did wield them.  
I’ll to Sherlock, this wicked sign place  
In his bed, and spread the blood  
Amongst his sheets, that he shall have no peace.

_ Exit Moriarty. _

MORAN: I thought I heard a voice cry “Sleep no more!  
Moran doth murder sleep!” I cannot  
Tell my husband, he will laugh, and say I am  
Unravelled by my deed. I am not,  
In faith- I have killed on the field, and off,  
I was a killer well before this, blood  
Does not move me. And yet- this voice cries  
“Sleep no more! Glamis hath murder’d sleep  
And thus Cawdor sleeps no more! Moran  
Shall sleep no more!” and I do fear it,  
When never has my heart known fear before.

_ Enter Moriarty, hands bloodied. _

MORAN: What, hast thou killed him?

MORIARTY: Nay, but painted  
His sheets while he stirred not. Come, we must  
Away and bear the second blade to  
Mycroft ere break of day.

_ Exeunt. _

_ Enter Sherlock, stunned and bloodied. _

SHERLOCK: What loathsome game is this?  
To wake, and yet feel uncertain dreaming,  
And to find leering over me no other  
Than Moriarty, was most troubling.  
I stirred not, deducing he had no  
Violent intentions on my person,  
But let him think me sleeping. He disrupts  
My sheets and then departs, and I,  
Meaning to ascertain his purpose,  
Do extend my hands down to find them wet  
And slick with blood! 

_ He spies Siger and rushes to the bed. _

O, my father!  
I see the knave’s foul purpose now, that I  
In most seeming guilt might bear the fall.  
Would that you, father, hath never trusted  
That Moran’s noble arm did match a  
Noble spirit!

_ A knock below. _

Someone comes, and I,  
In bloodied robes and bloodied bed  
Do play the villain. I shall to my brother.  
There was a time in my youth when I  
Could climb as well as any cat to heights-  
I’ll round to his window, he must know  
That bloody cloth does not a bloody deed show.

_ Exit Sherlock, through window. _

 

**Act II, Scene III** :  _ Mycroft’s chambers in Moran’s castle. _

 

_ Mycroft lies in bed. Sherlock enters through the window and Mycroft startles.  _

MYCROFT: Heavens, brother, you have almost by  
Your stealthy entry startled the life from me.  
Why, pray you, dost thou climb through my window?  
Hast Moran lost his stairs to the night’s frivolities?

SHERLOCK: Brother mine, we are, by most foul deed  
Set upon. Our father’s dead.

MYCROFT: What?

SHERLOCK: Look, upon my hands, my night’s garments,  
Does the proof lie. 

MYCROFT: Blood? Our father’s blood?

SHERLOCK: Brought to my room on the fatal weapon,  
And smeared such there by our lord host’s husband.

MYCROFT: Moran has done this? It shall not stand-  
We have the arm of the court with us,  
We shall see him most timely tried and punished.

SHERLOCK: I think we cannot- there were two blades used.  
One now rests within my bed, its art smeared  
Withall, I have no hope of virtuous  
Seeming ‘gainst it. The second, I think,  
Is meant for you, though I see it not-  
Ah, you’ve locked your door.

MYCROFT: I always lock my door.  
Trust neither food nor drink, nor caring  
Face, for it is always in such seeming  
Treason comes. Yet if you have it right,  
Trust we must, in those most far removed  
From this accursed deed. 

SHERLOCK: He is gone, brother,  
I saw the body myself, most brutally slain.

MYCROFT: There shall be time later for sorrow.  
We must ourselves conceal, ere break of day.  
There is no winning of it- there shall  
Be guilt in staying shown in blood,  
Or guilt in leaving shown as cowardice.

SHERLOCK: Thou should not be suspected,  
Your sheets are virgin white, untainted,  
You might with your clever words cast all the  
Blame to me, and be washed clean yourself.

MYCROFT: Were it so, but to kill our father  
Is a grasp for the crown, and I know not  
Whether any of these here may have my trust  
And not turn it back, to say I spurred you on.  
It should merely be a sentence delayed,  
One that ends with my own dispatch.

SHERLOCK: Where shall we flee? To Mummy?

MYCROFT: No- we will be looked for.  
Go you to England. There was an Englishman  
Fought with our father and Lord Sholto,  
Said to have a most fearsome arm, and a  
Disposition most loyal. He may have some fond  
Rembrances of our father. Go you to him-  
The Earl of Northumberland, Watson,  
He is called.

SHERLOCK: And you will come?  


MYCROFT: No. We must ourselves split  
For the betterment of our fortunes.  
And if I perish, thou must be King yet.

SHERLOCK: I wish it not.  
Where shall you go?

MYCROFT: To Fife. Our Thane there  
Has ever been a wise and sensible man,  
And more of import, an honest friend,  
So I know he aids not these base actions.  
If you can raise the English to our aid,  
I shall endeavor to turn he and his kin  
To the proper cause.

SHERLOCK: I shall try most heartily,  
Though you know it is not in my nature  
To swim easily in such human currents.

MYCROFT: Nor mine, but we must, or else be lost.

_ A sound at the door- the clink of the handle, being tried and found wanting. _

MYCROFT: Let us go, brother. You have the skill  
Of climbing, you must show me the way.

_ Exeunt, through window. _

_ Enter Moran, through the bedroom door, forced open by his own strength. _

MORAN: He has fled. Who has warned him?  
No- both brothers scaling down the walls.  
This goes not according to my love’s plan-  
We were to capture them, and have them  
Quickly tried and hung. Now they are gone.  
My love- my love who marked the younger,  
Must have woken him. It has never  
Been such before, that my love has erred, but-  
I see no other way than that he  
Blinded by his long-held fascination,  
Was by Sherlock misled.  
How else? My husband has ever held  
My most devout trust and loyal service,  
And I do doubt him. 

_ A knocking below. _

Another? Alas, it is near dawn.  
I must make a semblance of sleeping,  
Clean the bitter proofs of my deeds  
From my person.

_ He tosses the dagger to Mycroft’s bed. _

There, I have done my part, the blame is cast.  
The turn of politics and fortune must do the rest.

_ Enter Moriarty _

MORIARTY: Is thy work done, husband? Why do you  
Dally- Why is there no body in this bed?  
None sleep, nor dead? Whence has he gone?

MORAN: They are fled, love. Through the window yon.

MORIARTY: And didst not slay them?

MORAN: They were down the walls afore I entered.

MORIARTY: No pursuit neither?

MORAN: Husband-

MORIARTY: No- I cannot listen to thee prattle.  
Hush. I had hoped to see them hanged-  
Or at least Sherlock, let the other merely  
Lose his title, and all would be thine.  
We must find another way- his escape  
Suggests nothing but cowardice, and Mycroft’s  
Complicit in it. Come. There is much to plan  
And were it not for the need to keep thee  
Hale and hearty and fit for thy crown  
I would wring thee so. Get thee hence,  
I am not inclined to mercy, but we an  
Innocent, chaste aspect must show.

_ Exeunt. _

 

**Act II, Scene IV:** _ The entryway of Moran’s castle. Knocking persists at the door. _

 

_ Enter Anderson, stumbling in the vestiges of the previous night’s drink. _

ANDERSON: O god, why, when scarce dawn peers  
Through parting curtains of earth and cloud  
Comes this knocking! Will there be no recourse  
In favor to our last night’s merriment?  
For in the King’s name did we drink, and drink  
And thus continue drinking, until all fell to sleep  
And now they wake to aching. Peace, knocker,  
I pray you. I am coming.

_ Anderson opens the door. Enter Gregory Lestrade and Dimmock.  _

GREGORY: Was it so late, friend, when you went to bed  
That you do sleep past waking? 

ANDERSON: In faith, sir,  
We caroused most late, and in pity  
Of our humble state do pray you lower  
Your tone that it may play more as music  
To our ears.

GREGORY: In faith, I cannot, for the King  
Did bid me come at the earliest  
My faithful nag could manage, and I  
In boisterous tone, must obey. Is thy  
Master stirring?

ANDERSON: Thy knocking has wakened  
Him, here he comes.

_ Enter Moran, now cleaned of blood.  _

GREGORY: Good morrow, sir! 

DIMMOCK: Good morrow, sir.

MORAN: Good morrow, both.

GREGORY: Is the King yet awake?

MORAN: Not that I have seen.

GREGORY: He did command me to call timely on him:  
I have almost slipp'd the hour.

MORAN: I shall direct you to him.  
Look you, sir- there’s the door.

GREGORY: As many thanks to you as were your troubles.

_ Exit Greg. _

DIMMOCK: Goes the king hence to-day?

MORAN: He does: he did plan so.

DIMMOCK: We did ride through all manner  
Of storm and untempered weather  
To reach your keep by morn.

MORAN: 'Twas a rough night.

DIMMOCK:  _ (aside to Anderson) _ Thy lord is in a foul mood.

ANDERSON:  _ (aside to Dimmock)  _ Tis rumored he quarrelled with his  
Husband this morn, and when they quarrell  
The whole of the castle quakes. 

DIMMOCK:  _ (aside to Anderson) _ What manner of quarrell?

ANDERSON: ( _ aside to Dimmock) _ I know not,  
I thank the gods I was still most deeply  
In the slumbering pleasure of my drink,  
Until thy master knocked.

_ Enter Gregory. _

GREGORY: I would I had but dreamed  
What I have seen, though all evidence  
Speaks, and says, lo, it is real.

DIMMOCK: My lord?

GREGORY: The king- the king is slain.

MORAN: What, our king?

ANDERSON: King Siger?

GREGORY: Go, look you on him,  
It is a sight beyond reckoning,  
That will sear upon thy memory.

_ Exit Moran and Anderson. Dimmock goes to Gregory. _

DIMMOCK: My lord, are you well?

GREGORY: There is no time to be otherwise-  
Raise the alarum, sir, summon the guard  
Of the keep- there is a murderer amongst  
Us that must be swiftly found.  
Where are his sons? The father dead, they  
Are themselves at greater risk.

DIMMOCK: ( _ calling toward offstage)  _ Guards! Ring the bell,  
There is murder and treason here.  
What ho, raise the keep!

_ Enter Moran, with bloodied dagger in hand, and Anderson.  _

ANDERSON: This is a dark and bloody deed.

MORAN: Would it were not so!

ANDERSON: My lord did spy,  
Upon the ground a trail of blood,  
A most dripping path that led  
To the room in which Sherlock ought to  
Have slept, adjoined his father’s quarters.  
And there, glistening red ‘gainst white sheets  
Lies the dagger, which he brought out to show me.

DIMMOCK: Believe it I cannot, for Sherlock  
Is most gentle-hearted, though he be  
Ill disposed to pleasant company.  
Art thou certain?

GREGORY:  _ (aside)  _ I am not, for when I entered,  
No such stain marred the floor.

MORAN: It is as he said, sir.

GREGORY:  _ (aside) _ Why lie, Moran?  
Unless thou hast a truth to hide.

_ The guard-bell rings. _

_ Enter Moriarty and Molly. _

MORIARTY: What is the matter?

MORAN: Sweet husband, I fear the king is dead.

MORIARTY: What, in our house?

GREGORY: It is as cruel here as anywhere.  
Have any spied Prince Mycroft? For  
Though his brother may be under suspicion  
Mycroft is far less volatile in temper.  
Surely his most rational disposition  
Would be of use in determining his brother’s part  
And, moreover, that he is his father’s appointed heir,  
Assume the throne and thus his judgement?

MORIARTY: The room we gave him lies above-  
I shall go and seek him there. Molly-  
Give unto our friends some drink, this  
Tragedy calls for the fortification of most  
Sturdy liquor.

_ Exit Moriarty. Molly brings about a pitcher. _

MOLLY: Sirrahs, for your troubles, I hope this brings ease.

GREGORY:  _ (aside to Molly) _ Mistress Hooper,  
Do I rightly remember that you have some  
Long-held acquaintance with Prince Sherlock?

MOLLY:  _ (aside to Greg) _ For the time, my lord  
That he did study the rigors of the freshly  
Groaning corpse, in company with Moriarty.  
I did find them their vessels for research.

GREGORY:  _ (aside to Molly)  _ Was it a troubling pursuit?  
Hath you any reason to think him capable  
Of committing this manner of crime?

MOLLY:  _ (aside to Greg) _ No, my lord,  
Merely of the bent scientifical,  
At least as far as Sherlock held it.  
The study of the effects of death, the  
Causes and the decay, were of his  
Interest, but I never took him to be the sort  
To raise his own station with violence. In truth,  
He did oft say he wished he might not  
Be in the line of inheritance at all, so as  
To focus with more diligence on his labors.

GREGORY:  _ (aside to Molly) _ And what of Moriarty?

MOLLY:  _ (aside to Greg)  _ Oh, sir-  
He is my lord now, I would not speak against him.

GREGORY:  _ (aside to Molly) _ Not against, then, but honest.

MOLLY:  _ (aside to Greg)  _ Fairly spoken.  
I thought him kind, compassionate,  
Most interested in the prince’s interests,  
And not dismissive to mine own.  
I had thought, perhaps, that it was Sherlock  
He would wed- but they were never inclined  
In that way, and he chose Lord Moran instead.

_ Enter Moriarty, gasping and clutching a bloody wound. _

MORIARTY: Oh woe, woe!

MORAN: How now, my husband!

_ Moran rushes to Moriarty, who collapses in his arms. _

GREGORY: What has happened?

MORIARTY: I did but open the door,  
And there did Sherlock spring upon me  
In a most mad temper, calling upon  
Some past misdeeds he perceived I did,  
Though I will not own them mine.  
There did he a dagger thrust into my side-  
Oh, it aches most terribly!  
Prince Mycroft then did urge Sherlock to flee,  
And with him departed, more willing  
To hide his murderous brother than  
Avenge his foully murdered father.

MORAN: Oh, my sweet husband!  
Anderson- fetch the surgeon. Molly-  
I know you have some study of the  
Mortal arts- pray use them to offer  
What succor you can to ease his pain.  
We know whose hand did carry out the act-  
Both this mistreatment of mine husband  
And the foul, treasonous murder of the king.  
I call for swift censure! Let the thanes  
Be summoned, and in firm tribunal  
Make firm judgement of King Siger’s wayward,  
Treasonous sons- one a killer,  
The other casting away the throne  
And all his father’s deeds, to spare his killer.

GREGORY:  _ (aside)  _ Something is ill here, yet I cannot  
My finger place upon the cause.  
I’ll this judgement sit, and then I shall to Fife.  
I will not trade uncertain guilt for Sherlock’s life.

_ Exeunt. _

 

**Act II, Scene V:** _ Outside Moran’s Castle. _

 

_ Enter Molly and Dimmock. _

DIMMOCK: How fares the lord Moriarty?

MOLLY: He is swift recovered-  
Tis most fortunate that the blade struck  
No organ nor mortal artery.

DIMMOCK: The gods do spare him for a greater purpose.

_ Enter Anderson. _

ANDERSON: Good morrow, friends. Dimmock, where’s thy lord?

DIMMOCK: Gone home to Fife.

ANDERSON: He will not accompany us to Scone?

DIMMOCK: Go you to Scone?

ANDERSON: Aye- my lord Moran is some manner  
Of cousin to he that was our king,  
And thus in lack of sons to stand his place  
The crown does fall to him.

DIMMOCK: How fortunate. I shall come with thee,  
And stand in my lord’s place.

MOLLY: We shall be glad of thy company.  
Come, let’s prepare the horses.

_ Exeunt. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What, in our house?" has to be one of my favorite of Lady M's lines in MacBeth, because it's hilarious overacting on her part and no one comments on it, which makes me think everyone already knows she's overdramatic. MacDuff AND Banquo are basically like: 
> 
> "Will someone please remove yon most extra  
> Lady whilst she pretends to faint again."
> 
> MacBeth, of course, says absolutely nothing, because he's pretending he did not marry the most extra woman in Scotland. 
> 
> Comments and lamentations always welcome!


	3. Act III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Normandy or Norway?"

**ACT III, Scene 1** :  _ Outside Gregory Lestrade’s castle at Fife. _

 

_ Enter Mycroft, dressed as a beggar. _

MYCROFT: Alas, what I am reduced to.   
I did flee on foot, with naught to carry me  
But my name, which I must hide, for now  
Called traitor, now splashed with treason  
Am I. My night’s clothes traded for a pauper’s  
Rags, and when I arrived- my best hope   
Not here. I know not where else I am to go.

_ Gregory enters, with a small retinue. _

MYCROFT: The sun doth still shine- here he is,  
The keeper of my every lingering hope.  
Yet I know not if any of his party may be  
Party to my father’s grievous murder.  
I must hide my face, and no part of princely nature show.

_ Mycroft drawls a cowl over his head and face. _

MYCROFT: Hail, good sir!

RETAINER: Back, beggar, our thane need not be bothered   
With the likes of thee.

MYCROFT: O but sir,   
I shall trouble him with naught but words  
The only blessings of a poor man  
Who might benefit from thy lord’s wisdom.

RETAINER: Back, I told thee-

GREGORY: Hold, sirrah, if he be one of my subjects  
I’ll hear his ills. Go on, unload the horses,   
I shall be by and by.  What is the trouble, then,  
Goodman? If it be in my power I shall ease  
Thee of it.

_ Mycroft partly draws off his cowl, revealing his face. _

MYCROFT: I trust thou shalt try, though it be   
A more complex problem than thou didst realize.

GREGORY: Your grace?

_ Gregory attempts to bow, Mycroft stops him. _

MYCROFT: Nay- do not scrape here,   
My title is, so I have heard, cast off,  
And I would not have thee troubled  
With being similarly called a traitor.

GREGORY: Why come thee to Fife?

MYCROFT: Where else? You have always been, of all   
My father’s thanes, the most honest, most loyal.  
If you believe what is said of me  
Then strike off my head, for true it must be.

GREGORY: And what of Prince Sherlock? 

MYCROFT: Fled to England, where I hope he shall fly  
Faster than the rumors of his deeds.  
He did not do it- he is many things, sir,  
But if he is capable of it,  
He would only kill for love, not envy.

GREGORY: I believe you, but Moran has already  
Set on to Scone to be invested  
The crown placed upon his head by right   
Of distant kinship. Your mother yet holds  
Forres- I doubt she will wish to yield it.  
Have you written her?

MYCROFT: No, we cannot taint her,  
She must appear entirely blameless in   
Both our flight and our perceived deeds.  
It is known she loved my father well,  
And she is a woman of great wisdom-   
Moran will be hard pressed to easily   
Displace her, when she is so well-loved  
By the court.

GREGORY: Perhaps, but I fear the laws of common   
Decency and propriety  
May swiftly lose their sway.   
Come, inside with me, the street is no place  
For a man of your import.

MYCROFT: Through a servant’s gate, perhaps-  
My face cannot be linked with yours  
Unless you wish to lose your place as well.

GREGORY: Through the front, and if any servant of mine  
Is so disloyal as to report it, remember my arm  
Has as much practice in the field as Moran’s.  
I shall conceal you in my own quarters,  
Your grace, it is the most fitting space  
I can offer. Come, let’s see thee to a bath   
And find thee cloth more suited to thy station.

MYCROFT: My lord Lestrade- my station is lost-

GREGORY: Gregory- tis only Gregory, here, and Moran  
Has no power to dissuade my mind or tongue  
From calling thee prince, though I know if  
Darkness had not stolen it, thou should be  
My king. Into the castle with thee, and I  
Will see to your protection.

_ Exeunt. _

 

**ACT III, Scene 2** :  _ Outside King Siger’s palace in Forres. _

 

_ Enter Queen Violet, Anthea, and Sally on a battlement. Moran, Moriarty, Sholto and the others of their number below, outside the gate. _

VIOLET: Speak with them, Sally. They say  
My husband is dead, and they say  
My son did kill him, but I believe it not.  
Send them away, until they have truths to show.

SALLY: My lords, she says she will not hear you.

SHOLTO: Good ladies, my lord Moran has been   
Invested in the sacred seat at Scone,   
He is King now, whether thou whilst it or no.  
Open the gates, and give him his place.

VIOLET: Be he king of elsewhere then,  
He has no reign here.

MORIARTY: My lords, perhaps a sweeter tongue is called for.  
Good lady! You do your husband honor  
By most closely guarding his keep in his absence,  
Yet you wear no mourning robes?

VIOLET: He was most swiftly buried, afore   
I had time to reach him.

MORIARTY: But you do know he is dead, good lady, surely?

SHOLTO:  _ (aside to Moran) _ Says he she is mad?

VIOLET: I know it as well as I know that my sons  
Bear no guilt it of it. That crown thy husband wearest  
Belongs to my Mycroft, or to Sherlock after him.  
It is not thine.

MORIARTY: But twas found so, in righteous judgement.  
All thanes agreeing, save one,   
Twas Sherlock who did the deed.  
Why, I myself bear the marker of his blade   
At my side.

VIOLET: If he has cut you, then as a mother  
I must trust he had cause. Do not doubt   
I would carve you further.

MORIARTY: Such warlike words!

SHOLTO:  _ (aside to Moran _ ) I thought he meant to charm her?

MORAN:  _ (aside to Sholto)  _ His words are not for her. Look-   
He speaks not above, but below.  
The guards to the king their loyalty show.

_ The gate is opened. Moriarty winks at Moran, who turns his attention to their soldiers. _

MORAN: Inside, sirrahs, and see to the castle’s safety.  
For our former queen, let her keep   
To her chambers. Remember that she   
Has of late lost a husband, her grief   
Let us respect, and give her to private mourning.

_ Moran’s retainers, soldiers, etc. enter the keep. Moran and Moriarty follow. _

VIOLET:  _ (aside to Anthea) _ Good Anthea, I fear you must be known  
As my elder son’s most trusted advisor.  
The accusations against him do spill to you.  
You must fly- find him, if you can   
And offer him your service once more.  
He shall have need of you when his crown is restored.

SALLY: If you go, go now- they are nearly here.

ANTHEA: Blessings on you both- I shall do my best,  
My queen, to see to the safety  
Of both your sons. Adieu, your grace, serjeant.  
I must conceal myself til the robes of night  
Grant me a more hidden passage.

_ Exit Anthea. Enter soldiers to the battlements to place Violet under arrest. _

SOLDIER: Madam, we are under orders to-

VIOLET: Unhand me.  
Tis still my home, I remember well the way   
To mine own rooms. Thou may’st follow me,  
If thou wishes to learn it.

_ Exeunt all but Sholto, still below and outside the gate. _

SHOLTO: Moran has it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all,  
As the wild witch promised. Yet I fear  
He played most foully for it. Still- was I  
Not promised my own line, from which kings descend?  
I have a son, Moran has none, no root from which  
To spring a kingly line. Dare I hope she be right  
In this, as she was in prophesying Moran his bloody  
Throne? If it takes blood, it will not be I that spills it.  
I have seen enough to count through all my days.  
No- if that oracle be true, he shall have it  
Without any forcing. Tis enough for me to know  
That from my seed the vine doth grow.

_ Exit Sholto. _

 

**Act III, Scene 3:** _ John Watson’s keep in Northumberland.  _

 

_ Enter John Watson and Mike Stamford. _

MIKE: Sir, the guard have a most strange report.

JOHN: Speak it.

MIKE: A man was caught in entering the keep  
Through a high window, having skillfully scaled  
The wall. When they made to put him under  
Guard, he told them each truths no other has known,  
And now they fear to attempt to compel him   
To the dungeon, lest he curse them with some  
Arcane art.

JOHN: Is he a witch?

MIKE: Not so far as I can tell- a man, only.

JOHN: Then compel him to the dungeon.

MIKE: I would suggest, sir, a viewing of your own  
Afore you pass any judgement. At the least,  
He will be diverting, and you know I have said  
Additional merriment would do you no great harm.

JOHN: If you insist, my friend, but thou know’st  
The shadows of my thoughts vanish not so easily.

_ Enter Sherlock. _

JOHN: I understand my men think you a witch.

SHERLOCK: Tis no magic in my art, but simple logic.

JOHN: Logic is not enough to tell truths only  
A man himself should know. How didst thou  
Manage it? Spying, perhaps for days?

SHERLOCK: No, I need not surveil.  
Only to see. Normandy or Norway?

JOHN: I- pardon?

SHERLOCK: Your shield arm. Normandy or Norway?

JOHN: Norway. How came you to that?

SHERLOCK: An injury to your shield arm, not  
Terribly recent, tells one tale, joined with a hitch  
When you walk, though your fearsomeness  
In battle is still well-noted, so when it comes to riding  
It interferes not. Tis an obvious deduction.   
Two sets of invaders harass England above all others-  
Norway across one sea, Normandy across another.  
You are said to be a warrior first-   
It must be one or the other.

_ John stares until Stamford coughs delicately. _

JOHN: Well, I absolve thee of witchcraft,  
Tis clearly brilliance and no sorcerous scrying.  
Yet thou didst come in through a window,  
And for purposes yet unproclaimed.

SHERLOCK: I wished a fairer look at you,  
To gauge your honour.

JOHN: Mine honour? I should hope that   
Is not in question.

SHERLOCK: Not now, but I did not know you-  
Reputation is many things, but a sworn picture  
Of verity is not one. Now I can call thee   
Honourable. 

JOHN: And for what purpose  
Might my honour concern you?

SHERLOCK: I have heard you have long been  
A friend to Scotland- I fear I must  
Call upon that friendship, in solemn need  
Of sanctuary.

JOHN: I have been a friend to Scotland, sir,  
But I know you not as a face of her people.

SHERLOCK: You knew my father. King Siger is dead.

JOHN: Dead? We had not heard, you have our grief  
As one with yours. But say you- your father?

SHERLOCK: So as I was his son.

JOHN: Then your grace might with the word of your name  
Come through the gate instead of the window.  
Which prince be you?

SHERLOCK: Sherlock, my lord.

MIKE:  _ (aside to John) _ The younger of the two.

JOHN: Prince Sherlock. Why flee you here?  
Should you not be investing your brother as king?

SHERLOCK: Our father was murdered,  
I framed for it, and my brother, not willing  
To see me hanged for it, did send me thither.  
He is himself with other friends, as our   
Father’s murderer no doubt appoints himself   
His seat- for he was our cousin, and to him it falls.  
Thus in the name of honour, which I hope  
Speaks to my character, I proclaim to you  
I did not kill my father, and throw myself  
On your protection.

JOHN: And thou shalt have it.   
I can see the verity of thy words with ease.  
Stamford, my bosom friend, call upon   
Our sworn banners.

SHERLOCK: My lord Watson, I am sure  
Your walls are sturdy enough to keep away  
Any of my cousin’s assassins. Why call you  
Your army?

JOHN: A war began, Sherlock,   
When they killed your father. In vows of   
Friendship bound, I would honor my promise  
To the true throne of Scotland. We shall  
Find your brother and see him crowned,  
Or thee, in his stead, if he cannot be found.

SHERLOCK: I would not wish it. 

JOHN: Then pray he is well.   
The banners will be a time in coming,  
Tis no swift speed to ride. ‘Til their arrival,  
Join me at my table, take your rest here,  
Let me be your most solemn shield.

SHERLOCK: I thank thee for it.

MIKE: Come, your grace,  
I believe there is a room free merely  
Across the hall from our lord’s. There shall we  
Host you, for the better part of your   
Protection within our walls.

SHERLOCK: I thank you for it.

JOHN: Come, let us show thee hence.

_ Exeunt. _

 

**Act III, Scene 4** :  _ Moran’s castle throne room in Forres. _

 

_ Enter Moran, Moriarty, Sholto, Molly, and attendants. _

MORAN: My lord of Lochaber, we shall make thee  
The most honoured guest of our feast this eve.  
I trust we shall have your attendance?

SHOLTO: Indeed your grace, I would miss it not.

MORAN: Ride you this afternoon?

SHOLTO: Aye, to take my son and show him the wood.

MORAN: So long as you return, you have our  
Blessing to explore whichever bit of our realm  
Grants you the most joy. Fare thee well.

_ Exit Sholto. _

MORAN: Husband, what is the news of our   
Most bloody cousins?

MORIARTY: Most reliable sources have whispered  
That Sherlock is fled to England, hiding  
In Northumberland’s keep. No doubt he fills  
Watson’s mind with patent falsehoods,  
Covering over his own mad guilt.

MORAN: Always Sherlock first on your tongue,   
Though he is the second. What of Mycroft?

MORIARTY: No word as of yet.  
He is like a ghost, vanished to the wood and  
Seen no more, though I trust my network  
Shall find him.

MORAN: This is well.  _ (Moran addresses the attendants.) _ Let all of you  
Be masters of your own time, til it be  
The hour of my feast. We shall keep ourselves  
In privy council until then. God be with you!

_ Exit attendants. _

MORAN: Molly, does that pair of gentlemen  
Still wait upon my pleasure?

MOLLY: They do, your grace.

MORAN: Bring them before us.

_ Exit Molly. _

MORIARTY: You wear your crown well, husband.

MORAN: I am king- t’would be ill done to wear it otherwise.

MORIARTY: And you are ready to give the order?

MORAN: Aye. The princes scattered, the chief threat  
That lingers is too noble Sholto.  
Fife may be of some concern, if he had   
Cause, but Lochaber hath a wisdom   
And a valor that I should fear if it came to combat,  
Being one of few that may stand ‘gainst me.

MORIARTY: Fear not his arm- tis his knowledge  
That worries at me. He too saw the witch,  
And might speak against you on Siger’s part.   
Words have always carried far more potent   
Power than axe or sword blade.

MORAN: He was promised by her, aye.   
But if mine actions can spur on   
My reward, so might they negate his.  
I’ll put this threat to rest.

_ Enter Molly, leading Jeffrey and Raoul. _

MORAN: Thank you, Molly. Leave us until we call.

_ Exit Molly. _

MORAN: Sirs, I trust you recall our words of yesterday.

JEFFREY: Aye, sir.

MORAN: And have you considered my words?  
Feel confident in my assurances   
That ‘twas Sholto that did wrong you,  
Sholto whose word did take thy lands,  
Uproot thy families?

RAOUL: It is as you say, sir. He did wrong us.

MORAN: He did. And do you agree that this  
Is an offense any man of merit   
Should not let pass, but fight against?  
Or would you turn your cheek, and pray for him?

JEFFREY: We are men, sir.

MORAN: Oh, aye. And I, so graced to be your king,  
Would give you leave to recompense  
Yourselves of his flesh. For Sholto, in ways  
You need not concern yourselves with,  
Has proven to be mine enemy, as well as yours.  
Therefore I would bid you, go and claim your   
Vengeance. He rides in the wood this very day,   
Into the early cover of night- prove his head taken-  
And that of his son, too, for it is a furtherance  
Of my wishes that his line be carved off-  
And I shall ensure you not punishment,  
But reward and the graces of his house  
For your most loyal and noble deeds.

JEFFREY and RAOUL: We are resolved, my king.

MORAN: Most well. Then go, and to it swiftly.

_ Exit Jeff and Raoul. _

MORIARTY: Thou hast thought this through.

MORAN: You doubted me?

MORIARTY: Never, husband.

MORAN: Of course.   
I shall rest a while before the feast.  
Pray prepare thyself- we must make a   
Showing of our merriment once more.

_ Exit Moran. _

MORIARTY: He is changed. It seems he speaks with my words,  
With my voice- my husband, whom I so well ruled,  
Now ruling- and he is ruling me. Whence did this come?  
Twas it me who changed him thus, or did the witch,  
So forceful in her transactions, mold him  
Into the shape of a man more meant to rule?  
For if he rules so well playing at me,  
Would I not rule better, being myself?  
A mere accident of birth set me low,   
Beneath and cast aside, and were I any other  
Than myself, I should have been left to rot  
And wither. But is it not in me, if blood and birth  
Are cast aside, to wear the crown?

_ Moriarty sits on the throne, testing it. _

It suits me just as well as he. It is a chair,  
At its core, a mere object, given power only  
Because someone said it should be so.   
I can sit it as well as he, can speak from it,  
Raise myself from it- so why not me?  
No- I know why. Would I keep this seat, a dozen blades  
Should rise to pry it from me, and pass it  
To the next deemed worthy by those  
Who have never seen true worthiness.  
So I am always doomed to stand behind the throne  
And never upon it make my home.

_ Exit. _

 

**Act III, Scene 5** :  _ A wood in Forres as night falls.  _

 

_ Raoul and Jeff lurk amongst the trees. _

JEFFREY: Hark- I hear horses.

SHOLTO  _ (offstage) _ : Give us a light there, Hamish.   
I’ll take up the lantern.

RAOUL: We cannot best the speed of their horses.

JEFFREY: We need not- tis the custom of the nobles  
To walk the last mile to the palace,   
In a show of honor to the king.

_ Enter Sholto, bearing a lantern, and Hamish. _

SHOLTO: It will rain tonight.

HAMISH: How say you, sir?

SHOLTO: By the turning of the leaves.   
See? In a twist, it marks the coming storm.

RAOUL:  _ (aside to Jeff)  _ Tis he?

JEFFREY:  _ (aside to Raoul) _ Yes, tis him for a certain, and the boy.

RAOUL: Then let the rain come down.

_ They attack, leaping upon Sholto before he can draw his weapon. _

SHOLTO: Betrayal! Treachery!   
Hamish- fly, son! Remember well where thou  
Shalt always have save harbor- get thee there.  
Fly, son, fly!

_ Sholto throws the lantern so only moonlight remains.  _

_ He draws his sword, but he is weakened by the initial attack and the battle is brief. _

_ Between them, Jeff and Raoul kill Sholto.  _

_ Hamish escapes. _

JEFFREY: Didst thou see where he went?

RAOUL: To hell, most likely.

JEFFREY: The boy!

RAOUL: Twas he not slain by you?

JEFFREY: No, if there were not two of us, Sholto   
Should have killed the remainder. He has fled.

RAOUL: Then half our cause is lost.

JEFFREY: We must tell the king. Come, let’s away.

_ Exeunt. _

_ Enter Hamish. _

HAMISH: Father? Art thou living, sir?  
No- he does not move, nor breathe.  
He is lost. Where I am to turn?  
Safe harbor was home- our home   
Is not home without him in it.  
And I have heard them- from the king they came.  
From the king and nowhere else in Scotland  
Shall be safe. But- oh- my father did oft speak  
Of his English friend- John Hamish, whom  
He did name me for. Northumberland is far  
And I know not the way- but tis south, and  
South I shall go. Our horses are yet uncollected,  
In this flight, I trust, father, you shall forgive me  
This bit of thievery. Rest you well-   
Your death, good sir, shall never be forgotten,   
Though your killers be in hell. 

_ Exit Hamish. _

 

**Act III, Scene 6** :  _ Moran’s feasting hall in the palace. _

 

_ Enter Moran, Moriarty, Molly, Anderson, Dimmock, Sally, and other nobles.  _

MORAN: Do sit, all of you, as fits your station,  
As for ourselves, we shall mingle,  
Whilst our husband shall hold our highest seat.

MORIARTY: My husband shall bring to thee my welcome.

_ Jeffrey and Raoul appear at the door. _

MORAN: Let us have a strong draught poured  
All round- to the health of the kingdom.

_ Moran approaches the door. _

MORAN: There is blood on thy face.

JEFFREY: Tis Sholto’s.

MORAN: Then it is a mark of loyal service.  
He is dispatched?

JEFFREY: Aye, his throat is cut, that I did for him.

MORAN: Thou art the best of the cut-throats.

What of Hamish? Hast thou carved him similarly?

RAOUL: My lord, the boy is escaped.

MORAN: Escaped?

RAOUL: He ran, in the cover of dark- 

We could not find him.

MORAN: Most disappointing- but the child  
Is yet no threat. There may be time again  
For thee to earn a fuller payment  
In his blood. Get thee gone, and cleaned-  
Wait beyond the gates, and there may be  
Other orders yet. Our thanks, sirs.

_ Exeunt Jeffrey and Raoul. _

MORIARTY: My most royal husband, we await   
Your toast.

MORAN: Sweet husband, thou   
Art the best of our remembrance.  
Health and grace to all who wait upon us here,  
And to our country, strength and wealth.

ALL: Hear, hear!

_ Enter Eurus, caked in blood and wearing Sholto’s garments. None can see her except Moran. _

MORAN: This drink is strong, I feel its stir already.  
Where is Sholto? He did promise us  
His timely presence.

SALLY: He did not return from his ride   
Ere we came to the the table, my lord.

ANDERSON: Here, we did keep his seat reserved,  
But thou kingly presence may bless us in his stead.

_ Eurus sits in Sholto’s place.  _

MORAN: Ah- no, I fear I should not.

ANDERSON: Will your grace not eat?

MORAN: I said I would not!

MORIARTY: Husband!  
A moment, pray you, your pardons.  
Husband, what burst of choleric passion   
Is this, that turns thy words so sharply?

MORAN: Dost thou not see her?

MORIARTY: See whom?

MORAN: The witch!

MORIARTY: There is none there, save the fancy   
Of thy passion. Calm thyself, sit, and drink.

SALLY:  _ (aside to the others) _ What ails him, think you?

ANDERSON: Serjeant, you cannot ask that of a king!  
Tis above your station.

SALLY: Tis in public for all to view.

MOLLY: His highness sleeps not well-  
I do think it is the cause of much discontent,  
For he has never offered harsh words  
To his husband afore.

ANDERSON: Mayhaps he worries for his place.  
I heard a rumor that our elder prince  
Has taken shelter with the Thane of Fife.

DIMMOCK: Aye, I heard the guards at the gate  
Speak much the same.

SALLY: Lestrade? A good man- it says much  
If he has chosen Mycroft’s part, and shunned  
Moran withall.

ANDERSON: Yet our king is crowned.

MOLLY: Peace, they return.

MORIARTY: Come friends, let us restore our mirth.  
A drink! To the king’s health.

_ Eurus rises and goes to Moran, whispering.  _

EURUS: Where is the Thane of Fife?

MORAN: It occurs to me that we are absent   
More of our honored Thanes than Sholto.  
Where is Fife? Lestrade has ever been   
A bosom companion of the field,   
Comes he not to our feast?

SALLY: Perhaps he did not receive thy summons?

EURUS: The word flew, but where is the man?

MORAN: I am most certain he received it.  
Do speak, friends. You have heard nothing?

ANDERSON: There are rumors, sir, that he shelters   
Our slain former king’s firstborn.

_ Sally kicks Anderson under the table. _

MORAN: Are there? Base rumors, I must hope  
Or else Fife is as of a treasonous bent as the one he hosts.  
Let him come and give me his grievance as a man  
And I shall place his head upon a pike myself.

MORIARTY: Our dear companions, the night has turned  
Nearly to day without our noticing.   
Therefore we thank you for your honored friendship  
And bid you good night, whilst there is still  
Strength in your legs to carry you to your rooms.

_ Moriarty takes Moran rather forcibly aside. _

DIMMOCK: Such a sudden dismissal.

SALLY: Aye. But clear enough to see by.  
I’m for the stables, my horse shall fly  
By night as fast as in the day.

MOLLY: You ride tonight?

SALLY: I’ll not stay here. Fife has to right of it-  
To him I’ll go, and swear my fealty to the king  
That should have this throne.

DIMMOCK: I shall ride with you, be it night or no.

ANDERSON: Tis treason to speak so!

DIMMOCK: That rather depends on which king   
Thinks claims the name rightly. Stay here if you must,  
Shall I see you on the field I’ll spare you,  
But know you do not have the right of it.  
For myself, I am already sworn to Fife,  
And I prize mine honor more greatly than my life.

SALLY: Molly, will you come?

MOLLY: Not I, though I wish you well.

SALLY: Come then, Dimmock, let us fly.

_ Exit Sally, Dimmock, Anderson, Molly, and the other nobles. _

MORIARTY: What is the matter with thee?  
Thou could be a king beloved and thou  
Canst not keep thy temper long enough   
To fake a smile and a courtly air?

MORAN: Swear that thou dost not see her?

MORIARTY: Your witch? No, but if I could  
Twould be an honor, she being a bearer  
Of rich prophecy, not this infirm panicked air.

MORAN: Witch, art thou real? Canst thou speak?  
Hast thou more black prophecies to wrap me in?

MORIARTY: To bed, husband, thou art overtired.  
This is mere exhaustion, nothing more.   
To bed, go.

_ Exit Moran. _

_ Silence, for a time. _

MORIARTY: You are not here for him.

EURUS: No, though he is greatly diverting.

MORIARTY: What hast thou come to say, then?  
Am I worthy enough to have fortunes told?

EURUS: You know your fortune well.

MORIARTY: Say, what is that.

EURUS: To be a king without a crown.

MORIARTY: Bold words, but in the way of fortunes,  
Most obscure. I recognize you, witch, though  
You hide yourself in blood and rags.  
Tis your own brothers you cast out,  
Your father you did spur on my husband to slay.  
What did they to you?

EURUS: They were boring, all, and I am so much more.  
You are like me, in your way.

MORIARTY: And what would you have of me?

EURUS: You shall know, when you have need  
To trade it.

_ Eurus vanishes. _

MORIARTY: A crownless king. What prophecy is this  
That bids me rule in obscurity?   
No symbol of power, no show of who   
Rules the web of lords and ladies beneath   
The crown. Does she mean I am forever   
Bid to rule behind the crown, to keep   
The ruling of a king in the palm   
Of my hand? My husband heeds me not,  
Grows distant and drunk with power that should  
Be shared ‘twixt us, and mine to order,  
When I was the mind and he sword.  
Or tis it more literal, that the crown itself,   
The throne and all the rest, be to the eye  
Of the great masses, invisible?   
I know no manner of king who conceals  
His rule and hides his kingdom, save the king  
Of the dead, whose rule is hidden only  
From mortal eyes. And what have I to trade?  
No position of my own, no land or titles,  
Only influence, which she, a witch,   
Needs little enough of. Yet is she witch,  
Or woman? Her words are a most impressive show  
But til proven have little proof to know.

_ Exit. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always welcome and loved. :)


	4. Act IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They shall grieve that do come to Fife/With ill regard for my king’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings are at the end.

Act IV, Scene I:  _ The wood in Forres, in the early hours of the morn. _

_ Enter Moran, in bedclothes, carrying a lantern. _

MORAN: Witch! Where art thou?   
I know your kind lurks in bogs and brooks,  
Caverns and dark places. Come, speak to me!  
Make your will better known!

_ Eurus appears as though she melts out of a tree. _

EURUS: Thou roam’st late, Thane and King.

MORAN: Ah, thou can’st speak still!  
Why did thou come to my hall cloaked   
In such bloodied and grim garments?

EURUS: To see it. No- do not strain yourself.  
Your mind cannot see as mine sees.   
There is no point in it. You have come with a question.

MORAN: My conscience does eat away at me-  
No sleep, no rest, and I know not why,   
If this is all as is meant to happen.  
You must tell me- is this the path I am meant for?  
All your other words have spake true,  
And I am king, but the whole of the country seems  
To slowly turn against me.  
Even mine own husband has bent my  
Glorious purpose to his own measures-  
Thinking only of Sherlock, though to  
Punish or to love I cannot say.  
For him it is oft both contained in one,   
He has no tempering salve to his passions.

EURUS: You are afraid.

MORAN: Against mine will, yes, I fear.

EURUS: Calm yourself, and I shall divine  
What earth and air and water have to say to you.

_ She conjures smoke out of the ground, and strange images twist within. A face appears, most similar to Lestrade, and howls. _

Ah- thou must beware Lestrade. Beware Fife.

MORAN: This I know, his treasons already  
Steal my soldiers and split my guard in twain.

_ The first face vanishes, and changes to another that resembles Queen Violet, and gibbers strangely. _

EURUS: This spirit favors you. Be bloody, bold, and resolute;   
Laugh to scorn the power of man,   
For none of woman born shall harm Moran.

MORAN: Then Lestrade I need fear not, for he is   
But a man, and all men are of woman born.  
Yet tis better to know for a surety-   
His life is already forfeit by his treason. Say on.

_ A third apparition appears, this resembling Hamish, crowned, and though its lips move no sound emits from it.  _

MORAN: What is this, that so young wears the sign of sovereignty? 

EURUS: Tis a spirit of great breeding. He says you need not mind  
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:  
Moran shall never vanquish'd be until  
Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill  
Shall come against him.

MORAN: That will never be, for what mortal  
Can bid the trees themselves to move?  
Thus I am fated to live the lease of nature.  
Thou has much eased my mind, witch.  
Though- a question more, witch,  
What of mine husband?

_ Eurus is gone- she has vanished while he marvelled at the apparition. _

MORAN: Gone, again? No matter.  
I am certain in my deeds- my power  
May only be solidified, never melt.  
The castle of Lestrade I shall surprise,  
Slay his kin, capture the former prince-  
And he shall have a great trial, for the murder  
Of his father, such that mine husband will  
Be proud of my cunning, and all the lords  
Look to me and say, ah, yes, he was right,  
Twas Siger’s sons that most foully slew him.  
Sholto’s killers might do it- tis a deed best  
Ordered before end of night  
That it may be spoken of without fear of light.

_ Exit Moran. _

 

Act IV, Scene 2:  _ Lestrade’s castle at Fife. _

_ Enter Sally Donovan and Dimmock. _

SALLY: What ho! Is my lord Lestrade at home?

_ Enter Gregory Lestrade. Mycroft follows, listening at an inside door, out of sight. _

GREGORY: What’s the matter? Dimmock, returned so soon?  
I thought thou didst intend to stay a while  
With our new king and honor him in our stead.

DIMMOCK: ‘Tis your head I worry more for.  
Our king knows about thy guest. 

GREGORY: What? But no word of that has passed my lips!  
Who has spoken of it?

DIMMOCK: I first heard it amongst the Forres guard,  
From whose lips it came to them I know not.

SALLY: Yet know you, sir, ‘tis only a matter of time  
Afore his men come here to relieve you   
Of your burden.

GREGORY: They shall not claim him. 

_ Mycroft enters from behind the door he’s been lurking at. _

MYCROFT: Twould be simpler to hand myself over,  
And spare you from an inevitable siege.  
Moran may be a traitor to the crown he’s stolen,  
But he has long been a great tactician of the field.  
He will be a hard foe to come directly against.

SALLY: Hail, king!

DIMMOCK: Hail, king!

MYCROFT: Peace, friends, I am uncrowned,  
And further than that I may be of more use  
As a bartered peace, than anything sovereign.

GREGORY: No. I know thou didst not wish to be crowned  
So young, but you are king no matter   
The lack of a gold ring round thy brow.  
I shall not see you turned over   
To an unworthy usurper.  
Prepare our battlements. He shall not be able   
To muster the whole of his force with speed-   
So shall we send those who cannot fight to flee  
And hold the vanguard until they are safe.  
Your grace must prepare for travel-  
I shall gift you my fastest horse, to ride south  
To thy brother with all haste.

MYCROFT: I will not leave you-

GREG: You must. You cannot be risked,  
For any showing of honor.

DIMMOCK: My lord, outriders at the gate!

GREGORY: So soon? Come, fetch me my steel!  
They shall grieve that do come to Fife   
With ill regard for my king’s life.

_ A clamor outside of swords and fighting. _

_ Enter Jeffrey and Raoul and other men of Moran’s force.  _

JEFFREY: Seize the trai'trous prince!

DIMMOCK: Seek thy fortunes in hell, vile dog!

_ Dimmock sets on Jeffrey as the others engage around them, including men of Fife running in. Their battle is fierce, but Dimmock has the upper hand. _

RAOUL: Ho, villain!

_ Raoul stabs Dimmock from the back. _

DIMMOCK: Alas! Sally, look to my lord-   
I am slain!

_ Dimmock dies. _

SALLY: Fear not, friend, I will avenge thee.

_ Sally charges Raoul. Jeffrey abandons him to make for Mycroft. Sally quickly disarms Raoul. _

RAOUL: Friend, I came to thy aid, will not thou come to mine?

JEFFREY: Tis not thy coinpurse that funds this venture,  
Fend for thyself.

SALLY: Thou shalt pay for the blood thy spilt with thine own.

_ Sally slays Raoul. Gregory holds Jeffrey and others off easily, but is unwilling to yield his position bodily shielding Mycroft to defeat them. _

_ A hooded figure enters from the gate with a bow already raised. The arrow flies and catches Jeffrey through the throat. _

ANTHEA: A swift death to the usurper’s lapdogs. 

_ Between Anthea and Sally, the numbers of the attackers are reduced enough that Gregory is freed to fight back himself. Those that are not killed of Moran’s forces quickly flee. _

ANTHEA: How fares the king?

MYCROFT: Not king yet, dear Anthea.   
How came you thither?

ANTHEA: By quiet paths- I had fled court  
Days ago, but knew not where to find you   
‘Til I saw Moran’s mercenary force on the road.

SALLY: Are you well, sir? There is blood  
On your doublet.

GREGORY: A few scratches, is all-  
Twould have been none if I had but time  
To acquire mine armor.

MYCROFT: Gregory, art thou wounded?

GREGORY: Tis nothing. A scratch, merely.

MYCROFT: Let me attend it.  
They will come again, so long as I am here-

GREGORY: They will come again because they know   
My blade is now for them. Lo, you there-  
See to the bodies. Those of our side, they   
Who fought most valiantly shall be given  
A decent burial. For the rest, confine them to a pyre.

MYCROFT: Dearest Anthea, loyal Sally-  
My brother has fled south, to the Earl of Northumberland.  
Get thee to him and bid him march the English forces.  
If Moran will treat me like a threat to his crown  
Than by god I will be one. Ride thee swiftly,  
And greet my brother in my name.

SALLY: We shall see it done.

MYCROFT: Bid them meet us  
At Birnam Wood. There we might draw close  
To Dunsinane with Moran yet unawares-  
Tis the best spot for him to march   
To prepare for a siege on Fife. 

ANTHEA: Your army will hail you there.

MYCROFT: My thanks, to you both,  
And the heavens themselves shield your journey.

_ Exit Anthea and Sally. _

MYCROFT: Art thou sure thou art well?

GREGORY: I am a soldier first, your grace,  
I have taken hurts much worse than this.

MYCROFT: Aye, but these were taken in my protection,  
And thus they wound me as well.

GREGORY: It is my most solemn duty to protect my king.

MYCROFT: Duty alone?

GREGORY: No, but duty first.

MYCROFT: Wouldst thou consider changing thy duty  
For a greater vow?

GREGORY: My king- I am no prince, I am not worthy of-  


MYCROFT: You are, you have always been. You bid me  
Fight for a gold band about my head,  
Why not let me strive for one upon your finger?

GREGORY: If you would truly have me-

MYCROFT: I would.

GREGORY: Then yes, I will fight for both,   
With equal vigor.

MYCROFT: Let thy vigor spur on us both  
To greater deeds, for the heart is always   
Full, and full again, when it meets its equal,  
And love the wellspring of strength  
From which nobility descends.

GREGORY: With duty and love alike I would pledge   
Myself to thee, in the open air and before   
The better part of your subjects, when once   
Thy crown is safe upon thy head.

MYCROFT: Then let us strategize. Moran has not the men  
To lay a full force in siege, but if he rousts   
The other thanes, he may gain more.

GREGORY: Or he shall scatter your father’s coffers  
And send a mercenary force.  
My own sworn shields can hold off only so many.

MYCROFT: Then we turn the other lords, ‘til  
Moran has none left but those that see him  
For what he is and care not. Bring me  
Some paper and a quill, and I shall show you  
What manner of weapons I best wield.

_ Exeunt. _

 

Act IV, Scene 3:  _ Near the border of England and Scotland. _

_ Enter Anthea and Sally. _

ANTHEA: The road is close- ‘tis an old path  
Not oft travelled, save by a few merchants.  
It should be well safe enough for us.

SALLY: You are as much a trove of knowledge  
As your master. 

ANTHEA: Not so much, though your sword arm  
Is as great as Fife’s.

_ A commotion in the brush. Sally draws her sword. _

SALLY: Who’s there? Come out,  
Or I shall thrust through to find you.

_ Enter Hamish. _

SALLY: ‘Tis but a child! Why venture on this   
Wayward road alone?

ANTHEA: Wait- I know thee, thou art  
Son to the Thane of Lochaber,   
Are thou not?

HAMISH: I was, when he was living.

SALLY: ‘Tis a common affliction of late.

ANTHEA: Whence go you?   
Lochaber is well north of here.

HAMISH: To Northumberland, lady,  
To Earl Watson. My father was a battle companion  
To him, long ago, and did will I flee  
To his best protections.

SALLY: Then ‘tis a fortunate day for you.  
We go thence as well.

HAMISH: Truly?

ANTHEA: Indeed. Let us go together-  
Our serjeant’s fearsome arm shall protect you  
‘Til we might deliver you to the earl’s care.

HAMISH: I thank thee for it.

_ Exeunt. _

 

Act IV, Scene 4:  _ A dungeon. _

_ The former queen, Violet, is clearly a prisoner, in torn and dirty gown. _

_ Enter Moran and Moriarty. _

MORIARTY:  _ (aside to Moran)  _  I have told you, husband, ‘tis best to use her  
Wisely. Force her to speak for you and against  
Her sons, and the other lords will listen.  
She has long been loved amongst them,  
And her word shall turn the thanes to you.

MORAN: The witch says Lestrade is a danger,  
‘Tis Lestrade that hides the prince. I say  
These things are linked, and Mycroft was  
Always a lad loyal to his mother. Let him  
See the consequences of rising ‘gainst us.  
What ho, lady, how fare you?

VIOLET: Well enough. Tis better to be secluded here  
Than with your sort of ilk above.

MORAN: Is that any way, lady, to speak to your king?

VIOLET: What king? I do not recognize that crown,  
Nor the brow it rests upon. My husband   
Who was my king is dead, and my son  
Who shall be crowned is not present. 

MORAN: Your ladyship might speak better   
To those that hold your welfare in their hand.

MORIARTY:  _ (aside to Moran) _ She is baiting you,  
Rise not to it.  
Good lady, your younger son did wound me,  
Here, I shall show you the mark he did leave.  
Would he do this, were he not fleeing   
The guilt of your husband’s death?

VIOLET: Aye, I recall you saying so before,  
And to that end I ask when my younger son  
Hast ever before borne a blade in hostile  
Action? Were it violence of the sword,  
T’would more be like my elder to strike you down.  
Therefore I believe you not. The both of you   
Are malicious, malcontented usurpers, and I  
Will hear nought else of your lies.

_ Moran strikes her. _

MORAN: Enough of this twaddle, I have not the patience  
To find a merciful spirit. You shall be brought out  
Afore Fife, laid bare and flayed, if that will   
See thy elder son kneel at my feet.

VIOLET: Then do so. My son was not raised  
To put the ties of blood before his crown.  
No wound you can grieve me with shall hurt him.

MORAN: Then you must needs grieve yourself.

_ He draws his dagger and stabs her as Moriarty tries to pull him off. She collapses. _

MORIARTY: Husband, why? Why do you not listen?  
Our best hopes lay with her living,  
Under the ground her tongue cannot aid us.

MORAN: You favor her only that she bore the man   
Thou wishes thou had married.  
Twas you who wished to see Sherlock fall  
Rather then kill him when the time should  
Have best suited.

MORIARTY: Why say you this?  
Jealous, are you, of a figment   
In your own mind? I know you not-  
This man before me is a king, but not   
Mine, nor shall I rule you when you are like this.  
Stand on your own feet a time and see  
How well you fare without my words  
To guide you.

_ Exit Moriarty. _

MORAN: Obedience was never  
Mentioned in our vows, though if it were  
I know twould be him I would be sworn  
To follow. So much better that it is not-  
He discards me, just like all the rest,  
Abandoning me when I have reached   
My zenith. Jealous? Tis him, not I.  
How blessed am I now to see it.  
He reaches for what is near at hand,  
And that he canst touch it, he cannot stand.

_ Exit Moran. _

_ Enter Molly. _

MOLLY: Your grace?

_ She goes to Violet. Violet stirs. _

MOLLY: Oh, but this is not the end of so noble   
A heart, surely- surely ‘tis not a grave wound.

VIOLET: It may not be, dear girl, but I fear  
I have a grave spirit. You were once so close  
With my youngest, Molly- would you had remained so.

MOLLY: I could not see him, your grace,  
Not when each glimpse did cause me such pain.

VIOLET: I know- I would he took better care  
That his words and his actions did less harm.  
Tell him so, would you? And tell my Mycroft  
I know how oft I was severe to him  
‘Twas only that he might make of himself  
A king of iron and stone, that he might never  
Be hurt, and not of any lacking in my love.

MOLLY: Tell him yourself- I shall take you,  
Come, up with thee.

VIOLET: I fear not. My wound is most grave,  
That I speak at all is a matter of will.  
Molly- do not fall with these men. You  
Deserve treatment far greater than any  
Yet have offered. I had a daughter, once.  
Would that she had your sense of caring  
To guide her restless spirit.

_ She curls suddenly in pain. _

VIOLET: Do not forget, my dear, my love   
Send it to my sons, and let it not fade  
In the haze of memory to dust.

_ Dies. _

MOLLY: Thus is lost a mighty spirit.   
These rags, these prisoner’s garments  
Suit her not. She would rather perish  
Than yield her sons’ lives to suffer  
At her suffering, to be ill at her ill treatment.  
Were that I were so brave. I did pledge   
My loyalty for kindness, yet what meaning  
Has that, when nothing else in the world is kind?  
Jim treats me well, yet he does not love,  
Nor did Sherlock, and he scarce offered a  
Word of warmth. Yet I love, and it spills o’er  
An ocean overflowing the glass,  
With none to catch it. 

_ She reaches for the body. _

MOLLY: Come, your grace.  
I never was afraid of death, the cooling  
Of the flesh has never unsettled me.  
I shall see you buried proper. Ah-   
What is this? A necklace. A token reminder  
To your sons, my lady- I hope you  
Do not mind that I bear it to them,  
To show my carrying of your words is honest.  
To bed with you- a bed of dirt and moss  
And a blanket of creeping ivy. Come.

 

Act IV, Scene 5:  _ The Earl of Northumberland’s castle in England. _

_ Enter John Watson, Sherlock, and Mike Stamford. _

MIKE: Sir, there are a pair of women outside,  
Requesting access to your person and that of the prince.

JOHN: What manner of women?

MIKE: A warrior and a scribe, so they call themselves,  
And a young boy with him that claims   
Knowledge of you through his father.

JOHN: Who is his father?

MIKE: The Thane of Lochaber, one called Sholto.

JOHN: Sholto? He did serve with me- a man as  
Sturdy in his arm as in his convictions.  
Send them in, I shall see them.

_ Enter Anthea, Sally, and Hamish. _

ANTHEA: My prince, honourable earl, I bring  
Most gracious greetings from thy brother  
The right and proper king of Scotland.

JOHN: But yet uncrowned, unless the tides have changed

ANTHEA: Aye, would it were otherwise.   
He is ensconced at Fife, under the care  
Of the thane.

SHERLOCK: Lestrade? Interesting.   
My brother has always had an eye for silver.   
Yet he sends you thither?

ANTHEA: They do raise Fife’s army  
And bid you meet them at Birnam Wood.  
From thence, with your most gracious aid,  
They mean to siege Moran directly  
At Dunsinane.

JOHN: We have the army in waiting,  
And the wood seems a good a place as any to gather.  
Stamford, order the assembly. 

_ Exit Stamford. _

SALLY: My lord-my prince-  
This young man wishes to offer his own greetings.

HAMISH: Most noble sirs, I should gree thee  
In my father’s name, but he has no voice  
To command it, so instead I greet you in my own.  
Twas his dying wish that I proceed to you,  
Sir, whom he did regard above all other men  
In honor and strength alike.

JOHN: What, is he perished?   
By what treachery has such a sturdy soul  
Been felled?

HAMISH: By the king’s, sir-   
Or rather he who claims to be so.  
Men ordered at his command to set upon us,  
For reasons I know not why, only that   
Twas Moran’s word did will it so.

JOHN: Then as I did once love your father,  
And in keeping of that love, I do promise thee  
My protection. I shall name thee as my ward,   
Until such time as thy title might be restored  
To thee, for as I see it thou ought to be named  
Thane of Lochaber now.

HAMISH: Truly?

SHERLOCK: Aye, and the crown will recognize it  
When next it sits a wiser head.

JOHN: Come, friends, and let us break bread together.  
Moran will not expect us if we stride   
Most swift, and a long ride north best needs   
A strong and nourishing meal afore it. 

_ Exeunt. _   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Typical Shakespearean levels of minor character death(s); the author attempting to gently shred your feelings; etc. 
> 
> Comments and lamentations always welcome! <3


	5. Act V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hail, King!

Act V, Scene 1:  _ Birnam Wood, beyond Dunsinane. _

_ Enter James Moriarty. _

MORIARTY: Witch! I summon thee, in the name of rain,  
In the thunder of storms and wild lightning,  
Come to me now and speak you truly.

_ Eurus appears from the air itself. _

EURUS: Would you have merely called, dear boy,  
I would have answered.

MORIARTY: Tell me  
What possible purpose my torment has served.  
You promise me a kingdom, bait me with a crown  
That is mine husbands. Whisper to him until he  
Fears me, mistrusts me, who has ever stood by him,  
Make mine the greenest heart for his success  
And for his failures the most wrathful,  
Til I mistrust him too. Are your words all so false,  
As to enrapture each of us against the other?  
Or will you prove them true, and grant me  
What I am owed.

EURUS: You did not think them false before.

MORIARTY: I did not know what to think, when all is promised  
And delivered, yet looks to fall away anon with little hardship.

EURUS: What would you have?

MORIARTY: Proof and honesty.  
Mine husband cannot lead, yet you grant him a country,  
And to myself promise much the same,  
Yet I have nothing but the space I am allotted  
In the shadow of mine husband’s sword. 

EURUS: What will you give?

MORIARTY: What is it you require?

EURUS: You must make the offer.  
What price pay you for a crown more real  
Than the gold upon your husbands head,  
Yet one that shalt never be visible?  
What is’t worth? Your gold, your jewels,  
Your flesh and pain mean naught to me,  
But I tell you there is a land where  
Men would bow to you, royalty scrape,  
And you shall fear none of them.

MORIARTY: Tis everything I have ever hoped  
To see. Yet I sense a deeper meaning  
In your words. Tis all for all, is it not?  
What I offer is what I gain.

EURUS: Let none say you are a an unwise man.

MORIARTY: Then what you require-

EURUS: Is what shall earn thee all thy dark desires.

MORIARTY: Then I offer it.

EURUS: All?

MORIARTY: In faith.

EURUS: Thy life and thy property, all the power  
Thou hast here?

MORIARTY: Let me be rid of it, and trade it  
For something of greater value.

EURUS: And thy husband?

MORIARTY: My husband.

EURUS: He is part of your all, as you said.  
All for all.

MORIARTY:  _ (hesitating)  _ I wouldst not see him cast over.  
Though he has made me wroth.

EURUS: What of all that you have together?

MORIARTY: How say you?

EURUS: He might live. He might join you.  
But he would never remember this land,  
Nor that you once wed. You might have  
Him in body, but not in mind.

MORIARTY: Would that he lives, twould be enough.

EURUS: Then you are agreed?

MORIARTY: I am. Seal it, however thou must,  
My mind is fickle, I would strike before it changes.

EURUS: Then come. I shall cleanse you with a fire.  
Rise and dance upon my pyre.

_ Exeunt. _

_ Enter Anderson. _

ANDERSON: Have I seen this truly?  
My lord Moriarty, I do not doubt in such peril  
Of feeling as has come from a strife  
With our king Moran, has thrown himself  
Upon the pyre! My lord- my lord!  
No, he is lost to us- I dare not brave the flames myself.  
They look unnatural- they scorn the death of one  
Succumbed to sadness and anger.  
I fear to do it, but I must tell my king,  
And pray he hates not the bearer that the message brings.

_ Exit. _

 

Act V, Scene 2:  _ Lestrade’s castle at Fife. _

_ Enter Gregory and Mycroft, reading a letter. _

MYCROFT: The English forces grow near,  
Led on by mine brother and Earl Watson.  
Tis time to roust our own men to the cause.

GREGORY: To Birnam Wood where we shall meet them.  
I shall send outriders to our allies with haste.

_ A clamor at the gate. _

GUARD: My Thane, my prince, there is a rider!

GREGORY: Alone?

GUARD: Aye, and she looks to have ridden hard.

GREGORY: A messenger, think you?

MYCROFT: Even if ‘twere a spy, I am unafraid,  
So long as your sword is near.

GREGORY: Let her through!

_ Enter Molly. _

MOLLY: Good my lords, I hoped I should find you in good health.

MYCROFT: Mistress Hooper, art thou not?

MOLLY: Indeed, you grace, and I bring you tidings  
That I almost fear to say, for you shall take no joy  
In the knowing of them but that you know them.

GREGORY: Speak, then, mistress.

MOLLY: I have served my lord Moriarty  
In a debt of honor for his kindness,  
Which he always showed me most truly.  
This I do not say to spare myself,  
That I have served his husband also,  
When I believed him a man of worthy disposition,  
And after I knew most well otherwise.  
Yet such actions has he taken that  
No past warmth of heart or caring hand  
Can justify what has been done,  
And to me it falls to relate the horror of it to you  
In payment for my misplaced trust.

MYCROFT: Say on, good lady.

MOLLY: I do think you shall regret saying so,  
But alas- I did mind your mother as they escorted her afield,  
From the confines of your father’s keep  
To the stones of Dunsinane. There they set her,  
Weak but ever a font of strength,  
In the dungeon, that they might convince her  
To leverage against your worship her mother’s womb  
And bring your gracious self back unto their power.

MYCROFT: She will not do it,  
Amongst all things, she is a testament   
To an unyielding will and a spine of wrought iron.  
She trained me to wield a word as sharp as steel  
And a silence as a hammer.  
No force could they apply that will set her mind aside  
When once it is made up.

MOLLY: Aye sir, and there I come to the point of deepest grief.  
For in her steadfastness, the Thane of Cawdor,  
He that would call himself king,  
Did grow wroth, and struck her- she did expire  
In mine arms, while thinking most fondly  
Of her love for yourself, and your dear brother.

MYCROFT: Say it is not so! Oh, Gregory,  
I should have given more effort  
To bring her here, that she would be safe  
In your protection as I am.

GREGORY: She should have been safe  
Even with Moran, as a noble hostage of great worth-  
It is testimony to his own madness  
That he forgot the law of common decency so  
And slayed one so well beloved by the people.  
The fault of it is only his, and none of yours.

MYCROFT: Where lies she now?

MOLLY: I have buried her with mine own hands,  
In the edge of Birnam Wood, and to you  
I bear this token that she wore most fondly  
In the hopes of a more pleasant remembrance.  
I fear I didst not trust them with the body,  
But should you wish I will convey you to her,  
That she may be moved to a place  
More fitting of her station.

MYCROFT: We shall do so,  
When those that harmed her have been struck from the earth  
And confined to nothing more than memory.

GREGORY: I shall see to it myself, my love,  
For in causing you such pain it is as though  
Moran has driven a dagger through mine own heart.

MYCROFT: Then let us make ready.  
The wood calls, and battle, and I need thy fearsome hand  
When thou ride’st beside me and under my command.

 

Act V, Scene 3:  _ Dunsinane _ .  _ Moran’s borrowed hall is empty, save himself. _

MORAN: I did’st not think he would do be gone so long.  
My love, in faith, has always returned to me afore,  
No matter the strife. Witch, what of you?  
No, she remains silent as well.  
She hath given me but a taste of heaven,  
Then rent it all and abandoned me to hell.  
No matter. The prize shall be of mine own making.  
If none can kill me, then none shall rip this throne  
From my hands. Let them come.  
I shall destroy them all and from the ashes  
Build my castle in the sun.

_ Enter Anderson. _

ANDERSON: Good my lord- my king-  
I have news I would share with your most benevolent ear.

MORAN: Bring me no more reports; let them fly all.  
_ (aside) _ Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,  
I shall not live in fear. Is not Mycroft a man?  
Was he not born of woman? The spirit that knows  
The imminent truths of the world has told me thus:  
'Laugh to scorn the power of man,  
For none of woman born shall harm Moran.'  
So come, traitors. Let Lestrade rally  
To the princes and mingle with the English.  
The truths the witch spake to my mind and ear  
Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.

ANDERSON: Sire, there are ten thousand-

MORAN: Why look’st thou so pale?  
Thou are struck with a linen aspect,  
Eyes wide like you have gazed upon a horror.  
‘Tis a look that I could call cowardly,  
Lily-livered,  _ weak _ . Surely we do not  
In these my ranks of men have one  
So touched by that yellowed conceit that they  
Do quake before an army of traitors  
And foreign flags we once and will again  
Call invaders?

ANDERSON: It is as I say, sir,  
Ten thousand men and more do march  
And shall upon our doors cry havoc.

MORAN: My sword is ready for them.  
Bring me mine armor. Let my word fly,  
All those that talk of fear and doubt mine arm  
Shall to the hangman go, and swiftly.  
They are no men of mine.

ANDERSON: There is another matter, sir,  
That more closely to thine heart doth touch.

MORAN: Speak it. Mine heart is stone,  
And ripe for battle. Nothing that shall touch it  
May cause it pain.

ANDERSON: ‘Tis of thy husband, sir.

MORAN: What of him? He, that spurns me?  
I think of him not.

ANDERSON: His passions, I fear, proved most ardent.  
As I did return from scouting the forces of Fife,  
I did spy him before a mighty pyre,  
Churning smoke unto the sky as though he would  
By the size of it signal the coming of the gods.  
Then he did ascend it, and embrace the flame,  
As though it were a friend dear to him.  
Thence I did lose sight of him in the glow  
And haze of ash, and dared not approach.

MORAN: ‘Tis a trick. My husband is clever,  
He must have seen thou lurking and played  
The part, knowing thou wouldst tell me.  
He thinks I will despair of him. Hah!  
I know his tricks. A wise head and hand of steel  
Does not so easily lay himself down  
When there is power to be grasp’d.

ANDERSON: It is as a spake it, my lord,  
And no other.

MORAN: Lies! Get thee hence,  
The sight of you burns me to my core.  
Away! 

_ Exit Anderson. _

MORAN: I shall not believe it, not this,  
Not when I am so close to securing myself  
To this throne forever more.  
Fear I not loss, nor death nor bane,  
‘Til Birnan Wood come to Dunsinane. 

_ Exit Moran. _

 

Act V, Scene 4:  _ Birnam Wood. _

_ Enter Sherlock, John Watson, Mike Stamford, Sally, Anthea, Hamish, and the English forces.  _

JOHN: This is the wood?

SHERLOCK: Aye, where my brother did bid us meet.

JOHN: The trees are thick, the full count of our numbers  
Shall be well hid. Your brother is a master strategist.

SHERLOCK: Say it not in his hearing,  
His ego is large enough, and as his taste for sweet breads,  
Could bear far more moderation.

SALLY: There- the banner of Fife, my lord,  
I glimpse it amongst the trees.

_ Enter Mycroft, Gregory Lestrade, Molly Hooper, and others of the Scottish forces. _

GREGORY: My lord prince, I am glad to see you well.

SHERLOCK: My lord of Fife, I admit a newfound  
Appreciation for thine stamina, for I can see-

MYCROFT: Hold your tongue, brother,  
Or I shall be forced to enumerate  
How impressive it is that you have been  
Keeping your pace on equally eager stallions  
For your long ride from England.  
Good Earl, you are most welcome to our land,  
And for your honorable assistance, and thy most  
Diligent care and attentions to mine brother,  
You have my most earnest thanks.

JOHN: Twas a calling of honor in the undertaking,  
But one I take more joy in that I have  
Your brother’s favor o’er it.

MYCROFT: Aye, and I expect we shall speak  
More on that anon. Good Gregory, Earl Watson,  
Order your men to hew themselves a bough,  
Each shall bear it before him, and thus we keep  
Our movements better hid, and bar their archers  
From striking clearer targets. Stow our banners  
They shall not rise again ‘til the usurper  
Parts with his head to a pike  
And the throne scrubbed clean of the blood  
He hath shed in its name.

GREGORY: You will remain in the rearguard?

MYCROFT: Tis better for me to be seen  
Amongst those fighting in my name.  
I would offer them that honor.  
Sherlock shall stay in the rear.

SHERLOCK: I shall remain with John.

MYCROFT: Should I fall, brother, the throne is yours.  
Pray keep to where you shall live to see it.

SHERLOCK: I want nothing of your throne.  
You live, and I shall keep mine own counsel. 

GREGORY: Sally, Anthea- you have the honor  
To guard the king. Treat his life as though  
Should he suffer the smallest injury,  
The land itself should bleed with him,  
And all of nature cry out at the offense. 

SALLY and ANTHEA: We shall, my lord.

JOHN: Hamish, you too shall keep near to the king,  
Defend him, and be his cupbearer.  
Listen well to these noble ladies, and heed them always.

HAMISH: I shall, sir.

GREGORY: I shall take the vanguard, and,  
As I think the stories true, betwixt myself  
And Northumberland, we shall see Moran  
Most soundly from his head parted.

JOHN: In faith, it has been too long  
Since I felt the rush of battle blood  
Upon my veins. Get thee thy shrubbery, all!  
We make for Dunsinane as though a leaf but falls  
So quiet and unseen that none shall know  
The knife that waits until they feel the blow. 

 

Act V, Scene V:  _ Dunsinane.  _

_ Enter Moran and Anderson. _

MORAN: Close the gates.  
They may surround and siege us with threefold  
As many men, and still they shall starve  
Whilst we feast upon are stores.  
Where are our allies? Have yet none come?

ANDERSON: Their banners were spotted sir,  
But they ride beyond the wood, not to our door.  
It is Fife’s side they bolster, and the prince’s.

MORAN: They run? Whyfor? Does courage so lack  
Amongst our people that none shall stand?

ANDERSON: Tis said, sir, they have heard of my lord  
Moriarty’s death. 

MORAN: He is not dead!

ANDERSON: My king, I say he is. Bear it,  
But do not wait for him to come and speak  
The word into your ear that shall give you  
Every victory. Should you hear it, tis  
The play of spirits, and nothing kind.

MORAN: He should have died hereafter;  
There would have been a time for such a word.  
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,  
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day  
To the last syllable of recorded time,  
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools  
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!  
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player  
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage  
And then is heard no more: it is a tale  
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,  
Signifying nothing.

_ A call outside. _

MORAN: Whence comes that noise?

_ Enter a messenger. _

MORAN: Speak, I pray you, with speed.

MESSENGER: My king, the watch has seen  
A sight most fantastic, and they do claim  
The druids of old do rise against you,  
For from our tower view I was fain say  
That Birnam Wood doth move.

MORAN: Impossible. Thou hast heard  
Of mine prophecy, hast thou, and thou liest.

MESSENGER: I swear I do not, my lord,  
Upon my life. Go to thine own windows,  
And you shall see it, distant on the hills:  
A shifting grove.

MORAN: I wouldst not believe it.  
But if mine husband be gone, than this  
May mark mine end. If it be so, let me  
Be resolved for it, not cowering,  
But with the strength of mine own arm  
Dictate my fate, prophecy and spirits be damned.  
Warm thy pyre, most beloved,  
If it be so I'll follow in thy tread.

_ Exeunt. _

 

Act V, Scene 6:  _ Dunsinane, before the castle. _

_ Enter Mycroft, Anthea, Sally, and Molly. _

MYCROFT: Spread my word in haste, mistress,  
Have the rest drop their boughs,  
Tis time to show ourselves as we are.

_ Exit Molly. _

SALLY: Hold, my king- here comes one  
I know has counted himself amongst  
Moran’s steady, though he himself be  
No more than a credulous keeper  
Of tarnished honor.

_ Enter Anderson. _

SALLY: Hold there, sirrah, and come no closer.

ANDERSON: I do but flee, my good lady.

SALLY: Aye, lady, good is yet to be seen.  
‘Twas your word that did set Moran  
Upon Fife, ‘twas your useless breath  
That did put the stopper to Dimmock’s.  
Why should I not run you through,  
In equal payment of the deed?

ANDERSON: Please, my lady,  
I did not know him mad, and mad he is.  
Refuses to believe his husband dead,  
When I myself did see him throw himself  
To most unforgiving fire. He speaks of  
Spirits and prophecy and blood,  
And I cannot hear it further. Kill me  
If you must, and I shall be deserving of it,  
Or spare me and I’ll not trouble you again.

MYCROFT: Moriarty dead? That is more music  
To mine ears than word of any, save Moran.  
Let him go. But tread not upon our lands again,  
Sirrah, on pain of this woman’s good sword.

ANDERSON: I swear it, sir- king-  
Bless you for your kindness. 

_ Exit Anderson. _

ANTHEA: I could still strike him from here,  
My king, should you will it.

MYCROFT: On cowards, good Anthea, we need not  
Waste the arrows. They cudgel themselves  
Enough for all. Onward- there is a high hill there,  
From whence we may better spy the battle.

_ Exeunt. _

 

ACT V, Scene 7:  _ Dunsinane, another part of the field. The battle goes on. _

_ Enter Moran. _

MORAN: So they have moved the forest.  
What is a forest but wood and leaf?  
I shall not fear, for this army  
Is but men, and men are of woman born.  
If he exists that is not, let him come.  
My blade is for him.

_ Enter Sherlock. _

MORAN: I think, young prince,  
Thou are not meant to be on the field.  
There is too much of a delicate nature in you.

SHERLOCK: Then thou wouldst not try me?

MORAN: It shall not be much of a trial.

SHERLOCK: I have heard thou didst kill my mother,  
And for that, villain, blood is called for.

MORAN: I have killed many and more.  
Her blood mingles with the rest,  
Feeding a red harvest. So too will yours.  
For she bore you, as she did,  
I have naught to fear of you.

_ They fight. Sherlock is injured. _

MORAN: See? Thou wast of woman born,  
But thou shalt to dirt and worms return,  
Alongside that womb which bore you.

_ Enter John Watson and Gregory Lestrade. _

JOHN: I knew he would not listen.

GREGORY: Aye, I think it be not in their blood.  
I shall distract this false king, whilst you  
See to him.

JOHN: My thanks.

GREGORY: Turn, traitor!  
Thou must answer for thy crimes.

MORAN: Of all men I have avoided thee.  
Fife, I shall take no joy in claiming thy life.

GREGORY: Most excellent, I have no plans to yield it. 

_ They fight. _

JOHN: ( _ aside to Sherlock)  _ How didst I know thou would play the fool in this?

SHERLOCK:  _ (aside to John) _ Tis a rightful challenge for mine parents, both.

JOHN:  _ (aside to Sherlock)  _ Rightful, yet free of sense. Come,  
I bear thee to thine brother. 

SHERLOCK:  _ (aside to John) _ He minds me not, but that I am spare  
To him. I will not go.

JOHN:  _ (aside to Sherlock)  _ Then mind me, for thy blood  
Is dearer to me than mine own. Were you to perish,  
My very soul should be rent in twain,  
I could not bear it. Come, I pray thee, come.  


_ Exeunt John and Sherlock. _

MORAN: Thou shalt lose thy labor, Fife.  
I am the bearer of a charmed life,  
And no man born of woman may part me  
From the quickened soul within me.

GREGORY: Then despair for it, thy time is come,  
For I tell thee this grey frame  
Was from his mother’s womb untimely ripped. 

MORAN: Accursed be that witch,  
That told me truths in a doubled tongue.  
I will not yield and lay myself at Mycroft’s feet.  
Lay on, Lestrade. I try thee as a mortal man.

_ Exeunt, while fighting.  _

_ A flourish, the sounds of other combat cease. _

_ Enter Mycroft, Anthea, and Sally, followed by Hamish.  _

MYCROFT: You have done the count?

ANTHEA: Of our noble friends, we do miss your brother  
And the earl, Mistress Hooper, and my lord of Fife.

MYCROFT: No sign of Gregory?

ANTHEA: No, my king, nor of the traitor he meant to fight.

SALLY: Here, my king- your brother, and his English friends  
Do approach.

_ Enter Sherlock, support by John Watson and Mike Stamford. _

MYCROFT: Injured, brother?

SHERLOCK: Oh, gravely. Give over your poppies,  
I have great need.

JOHN: He is well enough.

MYCROFT: I am glad to hear it.  
Sherlock, you must not risk yourself so.  
You are of princely blood, but moreover,  
The loss of you would break my heart.

SHERLOCK: ‘Tis a theme of the day.

MYCROFT: Is’t? The I commend he that finally pierces  
Your stubborn mind with the concept.  
I am sure it is not I. Have you spied Fife?

JOHN: When we parted with him he did engage  
Moran directly, and none would interfere,  
For both are swift and cunning, and their  
Arms of combat most fierce.

MYCROFT: No more?

MIKE: Merely across the field, my king, as they did  
Bring Sherlock to my care. Mistress Hooper did assist  
Me with our injured, ‘til a woman came,  
By her helm disguised ‘til she drew close,  
And bid her go, and she, most rapt, did part from us.

MYCROFT: A woman?

SHERLOCK: ‘Twas the former Thane of Cawdor,  
I have no doubt. 

MYCROFT: Though she did commit treason to my father,  
If she has aided us in this I may her titles restore,  
And call her Cawdor once again.

ANTHEA: My king-

SALLY: Oh, tis a bloody vision, that.

MYCROFT: Where?

_ Enter Gregory Lestrade, heavily bloodied. _

GREGORY: Hail, King! For so thou art.  
I have, in thy name, cast the one  
Who would call himself so down from these sturdy  
Walls, to lie amongst the dead he so condemned  
By their support of his trai’trous deeds  
To enter hell together. So all say,  
Hail, King of Scotland, that shall rule hereafter.

ALL: Hail, King of Scotland!

MYCROFT:We shall not spend a large expense of time  
Before we reckon with your several loves,  
And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,  
Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland  
In such an honour named. What's more to do,  
Fife shall be raised higher, in name and place,  
Prince Gregory, to serve as consort.  
Let our friends who fled in exile return,  
No longer fearful of wrathful tyranny,  
And see our vows unto each other.

SHERLOCK: I trust you do expect  
To live long enough that the weight of yon crown  
Need not trouble me with its pressing.

MYCROFT: Perhaps, perhaps not,  
I have not the measure of the future  
In mine eyes. But, as to an heir, brother mine,  
I do not doubt you are yourself like  
To become by a differing band of gold  
Entwined. Do I have the right of it,  
My good Earl of Northumberland?

JOHN: As you say, sir.

MYCROFT: Very well. Then when that bond  
By honest word is joined, Sherlock shall take,  
In right of marriage, equal care to the ward  
Northumberland now sponsors, and we shall name him,  
And all his line, our successors, as shall remain  
When he rightfully takes his title,  
Thane of Lochaber.  


HAMISH: As you will it, my king, I shall strive to prove most worthy.

MYCROFT:  Let us go in, the hall shall be given over  
To those in need of a doctor’s hand,  
Care and attention casting out the mem’ries  
Of a dead butcher and his mur’drous spouse  
Both better rendered to the worms and fire’s ash,  
And troubling us no longer with this clash.  
Our thanks to all at once and to each one,  
Who come to see us wed and crown'd at Scone.

_ Exeunt. _

 

Act V, Scene 8:  _ Elsewhere. _

_ Moran, bloodied, stumbles in his entry. _

MORAN: I have, I think, lost the battle.  
There is no sound of it, no cries of woe.  
Have I died? Twould be fitting,  
A crown, a throne, and here to lie forever  
In nothingness. I shall lay down a span.  
Be I living, I know not what I shall see  
When I awake, be I dead, I need not fear it.

_ Enter Eurus and Moriarty. _

MORIARTY: You say he shall forget?

EURUS: All that was.

MORIARTY: And myself?

EURUS: You as well. He shall not know  
Your face, your voice, nor recall  
His time in thy bed. ‘Tis a price to pay,  
To look and love yet be known not.

MORIARTY: I’ve heard love is its own memory,  
Though the face may fade, the words,  
A name cast aside, the heart forgets not.

EURUS: Perhaps. You are agreed?

MORIARTY: Yes.

EURUS: Hold him. Anything you would bring  
You must carry with you. All else is lost.

_ A fog, and sounds of distant chatter. Bells. Car horns. _

MORIARTY: What is this place?

EURUS: The same as the one you left. Here,  
The crownless rule, by word and deed and mind alone.  
You shall be respected. Feared. Loved and hated.  
And I only ask two things of you.

MORIARTY: Tell me.

EURUS: Remember your hate to Sherlock.  
And when the time comes, you will find me.

_ She vanishes. _

MORIARTY: Witch! Return to me, I don’t-  
I cannot rule a land I do not know.  
How can Sherlock be here, if he is also there,  
A prince, a king’s brother- oh, but he is nearly king here,  
Isn’t he, I can feel him, and his sword-arm, the… inspector.  
What are these chariots, what are- cell phones-  
Oh, I know- it’s in my mind- oh, my love, it burns-  
Can you not wake? It is agony, I can see both  
My lands, shimmering over each other, and you,  
Always you are there, my Sebastian.  
And who are you here? My colonel,  
My sniper. 

_ Moran stirs. Reflexively, he reaches out as if to pull a dagger, Moriarty catches his wrist. _

MORAN: Aren’t you stronger than you look.

MORIARTY: So it’s been said. Do you know me?

MORAN: No- sorry, should I? I think I- fell asleep.  
I was near an IED blast- mind’s gone a bit off since-

MORIARTY: No matter. Come on, tiger, up you get.  
This world doesn't know it missed me yet.

_ Exeunt. _

 

_ Fin. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! We've reached the end of what might be my most complex, if not most ambitious, project so far. I hope you liked it. :) Feel free to bother me on Tumblr at @HastaLux, and as always your thoughts, questions, and lamentations are most welcome in the comments. 
> 
> XO,  
> Lux


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